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Photographic 

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1 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

riiv 


I 


Walter  Hurley's  t'oiinneat. 


Page  I"). 


I 


"'^R^ 


ri-f-pm,;- 


l' 


Conquest. 


liV 


B.    1^.    S.    H 


PHILADELPHIA ' 

/Iniepican  Baptist  Publication  Society, 

1420    CHESTNUT    STREET. 


-apip- 


ha     , 


L, 


"as.... 


: 


' 


' 


L 


I 


WALTER    HARLEY'S 


CONQUEST. 


BY 

E.   L.  S.  E. 


iS 


:^ 


/' 


v: 


« > 


■^. 


PHILADELPHIA  : 

AMERICAN  BAPTIST  PUBLICATION  SOCIETY, 

1420  Chestnut  Street 


I 


Kntorod,  accordliiK  to  Act  of  ConRrcHa,  In  llui  yenr  IN8U,  hy  the 

AJfKUICAN  HAPTIST  PIIHLICATION  HOCIKTY, 

In  llie  Offlce  of  Iho  Ulirarian  of  ('oiiKrcHs,  at  WaslilnKtpn. 


/^.-3<CP/y^' 


»i|»i  »iiin;i« 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

PAoa 

Walter  and  Lina, 6 

CHAPTER  II. 

"  LiTTLX  DeKDH  OF  KiNUNXSS," It 

CHAPTER  III. 
A  Dat  at  Unoljb  Zxbedee's, 82 

CHAPTER  IV. 
Mr.  Harrison's  Talk  With  IIis  Bors, 41 

CHAPTER  V. 
ScuooL  Days 48 

CHAPTER  VI. 
Bennie  Harris, 66 

'  CHAPTER  VII. 
TnK  "Written  Examination  and  What  Came  of  It,      67 

CHAPTER  VIII. 
The  Prize  Essay, 74 

CHAPTER  IX. 
Winter  Sports— Tub  Coasting  Party, 83 

CHAPTER  X. 

Walter's  Decision, 89 

3 


4  CONTRNTfl. 

ClfAl'TKR  XI. 
Anticipations gg 

CHAPTKR  XII. 
Flora  Lanoi-ey, 107 

CFIAPTER  XIII. 
Days  at  Faikiiaten no 

CHAPTER  XIV. 
Opportunitiks  iMrnovKD, 141 

CHAPTER  XV. 
Mb.  Fobd'8  Story,    , 149 

CHAPTER  XVI. 
Pnii.ir  Ray, 159 

CHAPTER  XVII. 
Thk  Old  Homibtkap  anp  tiik  Homk-comino,     .    .    ,    IW 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 
Nkw  Inkluknceb, 186 

CHAPTER  XIX. 
TiiR  Cbickkt  Club, 2O6 

CHAPTER  XX. 
Philip's  Rbtubn, ,    ...    210 

CHAPTER  XXI. 
The  Christmas  Holidays, 224 

CHAPTER  XXII. 
Last  Words, 282 

CHAPTER  XXIII. 
"Come  Up  Hiobeb," 287 

.    'ti\p  ■  ■>;■>-' ' 


i 


n, 


.08 
107 
110 
141 
149 
158 
176 
186 
206 
210 
224 
282 
287 


«'•■!'.    ,.'. 


i 


WALTER  HARLEY'S  CONQUEST. 


CHAPTER  i; 


WALTEH  AND  UNA. 


IT  was  a  cold,  cheerless  afternoon  in  the  latter  part  of 
December,  and  the  cosy  fireside  seemed  far  more  in- 
viting than  any  out-door  i)leasiire8.  So  at  least  Walter 
Harley  seemed  to  think,  m  drawing  up  a  largo  arm 
chair  to  the  library  fire  ho  threw  himself  in  it,  and  was 
soon  deeply  absorbetl  in  a  new  story  book — a  Christmas 
gift.  The  silvery-toned  bell  of  the  little  timepiece  on  the 
mantel  chimed  out  the  hour  of  three.  Quickly  its  hands 
slipped  round,  and  four  rang  out  through  the  room.  Still 
Walter  read  on.  Then  dusky  shadows  began  to  gather  in 
the  corners  of  the  room,  and  the  firelight,  flashing  fitfully, 
threw  a  ruddy  glow  over  the  crimson  carpet,  lit  up  the 
tall,  dark  bookcases,  with  their  rows  of  well-bound  books, 
gleamed  on  bust  and  statuette,  and  played  hide-and-seek 
about  the  curious  carving  of  the  arm  chairs.    But  Walter 

6 


fei--<r.-w 


» 


WALTER    HARLEY's   CONQUEST. 


saw  nothing  of  this;  neither  did  he  notice  the  opening 
of  Uie  door,  nor  hear  a  soft  footfall,  until  a  cheery  voice 
said : 

"  What !  reading  by  this  light,  Walter?  "  And,  look- 
ing up,  he  saw  his  cousin,  Lina  Morton,  a  bright-faced 
young  lady  of  twenty,  who  had  come  to  give  him  his 
music  lesson. 

"  It  is  dark,"  he  exclaimed,  starting  to  his  feet,  and 
throwing  down  the  book.  "  I  have  finished  it,  anyway. 
I  tell  you,  Lina,  that  fellow  was  just  splendid.  He  waa 
a  hero." 

"What  did  he  do?  "  asked  Lina. 

"  What  didn't  he  do  ?  "  exclaimed  Walter.  •  '■  He  did 
everything  that  was  brave.  The  last  thing  he  did  was  to 
rescue  a  woman  and  her  two  children  from  a  burning 
house,  and  it  nearly  cost  him  his  life.  Now,  Lina,  can't 
you  get  up  a  fire  down  your  way,  and  I  will  come  and 
save  you  just  before  the  roof  falls?  " 

"  Thank  you.  I  would  rather  not  go  through  the  ex- 
perience ;  and  if  I  did,  I  would  probably  be  shivering  in 
the  street,  looking  at  the  ruins  of  our  house,  while  your 
royal  highness  would  be  wrapped  in  slumber  sweet,  all 
unconscious  of  my  danger." 

"  Now,  Lina,  that  is  too  bad." 

"  Well,  Walter,  I  do  not  know  how  I  can  make  you  a 


^ 


" 


t 


r. 

the  opening 
cheery  voice 

'  And,  look- 
i  bright-faced 
give  him   hia 

his  feet,  and 
d  it,  anyway, 
did.    He  was 


3r.  •  '■  He  did 
he  did  was  to 
»in  a  burning 
w,  Liua,  can't 
?ill  come  and 

rough  the  ex- 
e  shivering  in 
36,  while  your 
aber  sweet,  ail 


1  make  you  a 


" 


t 


WALTER    HARLEY's  CONQUEST.  7 

hero,  unless  I  can  manage  to  tumble  into  the  river  next 
summer,  when  we  are  out  boating." 

"  Oh,  do  !  "  said  Walter,  laughing,  "  and  oblige  yours 
truly.  But  honestly,  Lina,  I  often  think  I  could  do  a 
brave  deed  if  I  had  the  chance ;  but  I  have  never  had 
the  chance  yet,  and  I  don't  suppose  I  ever  shall." 

Very  manly  the  boy  of  fourteen  looked,  as  he  drew 
himself  up  to  his  full  height ;  and  very  handsome  too, 
Lina  thought,  as  figure  f  id  face  were  thrown  into  full 
relief  by  the  bright  firelight.  His  was  a  Saxon  type  of 
countenance,  with  bright  brown  hair  clustering  around 
an  open  brow,  and  merry  blue  eyes  that  wore  an  earnest 
look  just  now,  and  rounded  cheeks  on  which  rested  the 
glow  of  health.  But  Lina  saw  something  far  better  than 
all  this  in  that  pleasant,  frank,  boyish  face, — something 
that  would  last  when  all  that  youthful  charm  was  gone, — 
the  love  of  all  that  is  pure  and  true,  the  aspiration  after 
all  that  is  great  and  noble  in  life.  All  this  flashed 
through  her  mind  in  the  pause  that  followed  Walter's 
words.    Then  she  said  : 

"  I  do  not  think  the  chance  to  do  deeds  of  heroism 

such  as  you  have  mentioned  comes  very  often  in  any 

man's  life,  and  to  many  the  opportunity  never  comes ; 

yet  these  may  be  just  as  truly  heroes  as  the  others." 

"Oh,  yes,  I  grant  that,"  said  Walter.    "There  are 


8 


WALTER    HARLEY's  CONQUEST. 


some  fellows,  for  instance,  who  are  poor,  and  have  to 
work  hard  to  support  mother,  and  brothers  and  sisters, 
and  get  an  education  the  best  way  they  can.  I  think 
they  are  noble ;  but  I  am  not  called  to  do  that." 

"  Yes ;  but  what  makes  their  lives  noble  ?  Is  it  not 
their  devotion  to  those  they  love— their  readiness  to 
make  any  sacrifice  for  their  benefit?  And  that  is  just 
what  every  one  can  do,  however  easily  their  lives  flow 
on.  It  seems  to  me  the  question  for  most  of  us  is  not, 
Are  we  ready  to  die  for  those  we  love?  but.  Are  we  ready 
to  live  for  them— to  make  any  little  self-sacrifice  which 
will  render  them  happier  ;  to  put  one's  own  special  feel- 
ings and  ta-jtes  and  preferences  in  the  background,  and 
always  consider  others  first?  I  tell  you,  Walter,  it  is 
harder  than  any  one  would  dream  to  be  always  self-for- 
getful ;  and  such  a  life  is  heroic,  however  commonplace 
in  other  respects  it  may  be." 

Lina  spoke  earnestly,  and  a  little  flush  rose  in  her  face, 
and  her  dark  eyes  brightened. 

As  for  Walter,  a  vision  of  a  little  disappointed  face 
rose  before  him,  as  he  remembered  how,  that  very  after- 
noon, he  had  told  his  little  sister  Bertha,  to  "  run  away 
and  not  bother  him,"  when  she  came  asking  him  to  mend 
a  broken  toy.  "  And  perhaps  poor  mother  had  to  fix  it," 
he  thought ;  "  and  it  is  Ann's  afternoon  out.  and  baby  is 


'# 


V 


t^m^l^ 


and  have  to 

i  and  sisters, 
;an.  I  think 
hilt." 

J?  Is  it  not 
readiness  to 
i  that  is  just 
eir  lives  flow 
of  us  is  not, 
Are  we  ready 
icrifice  which 
I  special  feel- 
kground,  and 
Walter,  it  is 
Iwaya  self-for- 
commonplace 

se  in  her  face, 

ippointed  face 
lat  very  after- 
to  "  run  away 
r  him  to  mend 
had  to  fix  it," 
t,  and  baby  is 


1^ 


I- 


WALTER   HARLEY's  CONQUEST.  r9 

fretting  and  cross.    How  selfish  I  have  been  all  the  after- 
noon 1     Have  I  indeed  failed  to  be  a  true  hero  ?  " 

He  could  not  help  feeling  glad,  however,  that  Lina 
knew  nothing  of  all  this ;  and,  ready  to  excuse  himself, 
said: 

"  Oh,  of  course,  one  ought  to  do  all  those  things,  but 
then  they  are  so  very  small." 

"  That  depends  on  how  you  look  at  them,"  said  Lina. 
"  If  you  look  at  them  with  the  eyes  of  the  world,  they  do 
look  small,  and  perhaps  they  may  not  seem  great  even  to 
your  nearest  friends,  because  they  cannot  know  how 
much  it  has  cost  you  to  make  the  sacrifice,  or  give  up 
your  own  way.  But  they  are  great  in  the  sight  of  God. 
And,  after  all,  Walter,  there  is  only  one  true  standard  of 
greatness,  and  that  is  the  divine  standard.  As  things  are 
in  the  sight  of  God,  so  they  really  are,  and  we  shall  see 
this  in  the  light  of  eternity,  if  we  do  not  now." 

"  You  would  do  for  a  preacher,  Lina,"  said  Walter. 

"  Now  you  may  be  sure  I  shall  not  say  any  more," 
returned  Lina,  gayly.  "  How  dark  it  is  getting  I  Come, 
Wally,  we  must  begin  our  music  lesson." 

"  Yes,  I  suppose  so,"  replied  Walter,  with  a  half  sigh. 
"  Nothing  very  heroic  in  that." 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Lina,  quietly.  "  I  wish  it  might 
be,  as  I  have  to  spend  so  much  time  in  that  way." 


V 


^^m^lLH^^ 


-J 


10 


WALTER   barley's    CONQUEST. 


! 


Walter  had  just  lit  the  lamp,  and,  glancing  at  Lina  as 
she  spoke,  he  noticed  a  momentary  weary  expression 
pass  over  her  face;  it  was  only  momentary,  but  it  set 
him  thinking  aa  he  led  the  way  into  the  parlor.  Was 
it  possible  that,  after  all,  Lina  did  not  very  much  enjoy 
teaching  music  ?  It  was  a  new  thought  to  him,  for  Lina 
always  seemed  to  like  to  do  everything  she  did.  But  t^e 
thought  made  him  take  more  pains  with  his  oxt^oises 
and  scales,  and  he  secretly  resolved  that  hereafter  he 
would  practice  more  faithfully,  and  so  make  the  hour 
easier  for  his  young  teacher. 

Just  here  let  us  pause  a  moment,  and  learn  something 
more  about  our  young  friends.  Walter  was  the  eldest 
of  a  family  of  four,  and  the  only  son.  His  father,  Mr. 
Harley.was  a  prosperous  merchant,  everywhere  respected 
for  his  integrity,  and  beloved  by  all  who  knew  him  for 
his  genial  manners.  Mrs.  Harley  was  a  sweet-tempered, 
gentle  woman,  devoted  to  her  husband  and  family. 
Naturally  quiet  in  manners,  she  was  nevertheless  the 
centre  and  life  of  her  home,  and  one  could  not  be  long  in 
her  presence  without  feeling  that  all  her  thought  was 
how  best  to  promote  the  happiness  and  comfort  of  others. 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Harley  had  had  six  children ;  two  next  in 
age  to  Walter  had  died  in  infancy ;  then  came  Carrie, 
eight  years  old,  Bertha,  four,  and  Baby  Winnie.    They 


'f 


A 


4 


■*-r~ 


r'c 


11 


ig  at  Lina  as 
y  expression 
y,  but  it  set 
mrlor.  Was 
'  much  enjoy 
urn,  for  Lina 
lid.  But  Ue 
his  exercises 
hereafter  he 
ke  the  hour 

rn  something 
us  the  eldest 
8  father,  Mr. 
ere  respected 
new  him  for 
eet-tempered, 
and  family, 
ertheless  the 
ot  be  long  in 
thought  was 
'oil;  of  others. 
;  two  next  in 
came  Carrie, 
innie.    They 


WALTER    HARLEY  S  CONQUEST. 

had  a  delightful  home  a  short  distance  out  of  the  small 
town  of  Knowlton.  Elmwood,  for  that  was  the  name  of 
the  place,  was  a  well-built,  substantial  house.  It  was 
surrounded  by  ample  grounds,  which  were  well  kept, 
making  it  a  charming  place  in  summer ;  nor  was  it  less 
attractive  in  winter,  for  the  liouse  was  tastefully  fur- 
nished and  filled  with  all  that  could  please  a  refined 
mind.  Yet  the  chief  charm  of  that  home  lay  not  in  its 
surroundings,  but  in  the  fact  that  it  was  a  happy  Chris- 
tian home ;  for  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Harley  were  both  earnest 
Christians.,  and  their  highest  desire  was  to  see  their  chil- 
dren loving  and  loyal  followers  of  Jesus. 

Lina  Morton  was  the  only  daughter  of  Mr.  Harlcy's 
sister.  Her  lot  was  differently  caat  from  that  of  her 
cousin.  Mr.  Morton  was  a  bookkeeper  at  a  moderate 
salary.  Mrs.  Morton  had  some  proj)erty  of  her  own, 
from  which  she  received  a  small  income,  and  with 
prudence  and  good  management  they  had  always  been 
able  to  live  comfortably.  But  as  Lina  grew  up  she  felt 
the  necessity  of  earning  something  for  herself,  more  par- 
ticularly as  her  brother  Rob  was  ready  to  enter  college. 
His  cherished  desire  was  to  become  a  doctor,  and  Lina 
knew  that  her  parents  would  have  heavy  expenses  for 
some  years.  As  she  had  a  good  musical  education,  she 
resolved  to  give  music  lessons,  and  soon  had  a  number  of 


^ 


J^ 


12 


WALTER   HARLEY's  CONQUEST. 


pupils.  Besides  this,  she  acted  as  governess  to  her  cousin 
Carrie,  spending  three  hours  with  her  every  morning. 
Her  afternoon  was  taken  up  with  lessons;  so  she  was 
kept  very  busy.  Very  buoyantly  Lina  entered  upon  her 
tasks,  but,  like  most  young  people,  she  found  that  work 
is  work,  and  sometimes  she  was  very  weary,  and  her  zeal 
flagged  so  that  she  was  almost  ready  to  give  up.  But  the 
thought  of  being  a  real  help  to  those  she  loved  spurred 
her  on,  and  perhaps  her  best  friends  never  guessed  her 
discouragements.  And  through  all  these  experiences  the 
young  girl  was  drawn  nearer  to  her  Heavenly  Friend, 
and  day  by  day  received  renewed  strength  from  him. 

Mr.  Harley  was  very  fond  of  his  niece,  and  to  Walter 
she  was  like  an  older  sister.  Indeed,  to  Lina,  Elmwood 
seemed  as  much  home  as  did  her  own,  and  she  often 
laughingly  told  Walter  that  she  was  as  rich  as  he,  for 
she  had  as  much  enjoyment  of  his  home  as  he  had. 

But  by  this  time  the  music  lesson  was  finished,  and 
Lina  was  putting  on  her  wraps  in  the  hall.  Walter,  who 
was  inclined  for  a  walk  after  his  afternoon  in  the  house, 
remembered  an  errand  he  had  in  town,  and  said  he 
would  walk  in  with  her.  Then  a  thought  occurred  to 
him,  and  he  called  his  mother  to  know  if  there  was 
anything  he  could  do  for  her  on  his  way.  Walter  waa 
not  often  so  thoughtful  as  this. 


V 


^;. 


WALTER    barley's  CONQUEST, 


13 


to  her  cousin 
ary  morning. 
;  so  she  was 
red  upon  her 
nd  that  work 
and  her  zeal 
up.  But  the 
jved  spurred 

guessed  her 
periences  the 
enly  Friend, 
rom  him. 
id  to  Walter 
la,  Elmwood 
id  she  often 
3h  as  he,  for 
le  had. 
finished,  and 

Walter,  who 
in  the  house, 
and  said  he 

occurred  to 
f  there  was 

Walter  waa 


V 


"Yes,"  said  his  mother,  "I  wish,  dear,  you  would 
take  a  mould  of  jelly  down  to  Jennie  Elston,  She  has 
so  little  appetite,  poor  thing  1  and  I  dare  say  she  would 
relish  it,  I  was  thinking  of  her  to-day,  and  wishing 
I  could  take  her  some." 

"I  am  sure  she  would  like  it,"  said  Lina.  "Mrs. 
Elston  told  rae  the  other  day  that  Jennie  only  cared 
for  little  niceties  of  that  kind,  and  it  must  be  difiicult 
for  them  to  get  those  little  luxuries  for  her." 

"Yes;  they  have  a  hard  struggle  to  get  along,"  said 
Mrs.  Harley,  and  then  she  flitted  away  to  the  pantry, 
whence  she  soon  returned  with  a  glass  of  jelly. 

"I  suppose,  mother,"  said  Walter,  aa  he  took  it  from 
her  hand.  "  that  if  I  drop  it  in  the  road  it  won't  make 
any  diflerenco." 

"Oh,  you  are  a  sad  case,  Wally."  But  the  fond 
mother-look  was  in  her  eyes  as  she  said  it.  "Lina, 
you  must  look  after  this  boy,  and  see  that  he  behaves 
himself 

"All  right;  if  any  accident  happens,  I  will  charge 
it  to  you,  Lina."  And  thus  merrily  they  set  off  down 
the  avenue. 

"That  is  just  like  mother,"  said  Walter,  as  they 
turned  into  the  road;  "she  is  always  doing  something 
for  somebody.    I  wish  I  did  as  much." 


■OMK. 


If 


14 


WALTER    HAULEY's   COXQUEST. 


"So  you  will,  some  day,  I  am  sure,"  replied  Linn. 
"  And  now  it  is  something  to  be  the  bearer  of  her  gifts, 
is  it  not?" 

"Yes,"  said  Walter,  "I  suppose  it  is;  I  never  thought 
of  that.  I  know  that  there  are  many  things  I  might  do 
for  others;  but  the  worst  of  it  is,  that  I  never  think  of 
them  until  the  opportunitj  is  gone." 

"  Very  much  my  trouble  too,  Walter,  but  this  thought- 
fulness  for  others  grows  with  exercise.  One  thing  is 
certain,  one  must  have  '  a  heart  at  leisure  from  itself,' 
if  one  would  be  helpful.  One  who^e  thoughts  are  cen- 
tered in  self  cannot  be  a  blessing  to  others." 

"  Well,  the  new  year  is  close  upon  us,"  said  Walter, 
"  and  I,  for  one,  intend  to  turn  over  a  new  leaf." 

"Here  is  the  place,"  said  Lina,  stopping  before  a  little 
low  cottage,  and  tapping  gently  on  the  door. 

The  knock  was  answered  by  a  pale,  care-worn  woman, 
with  a  delicate-looking  child  clinging  to  her  dress.  Her 
face  lighted  up  as  she  took  the  jelly. 

"  Thank  you,"  she  said ;  "  Mrs.  Harley  is  very  kind. 
Jennie  will  enjoy  it  so  much." 

"How  is  Jennie  to-day?"  asked  Lina. 

"She  is  quite  feverish  this  afternoon,  Miss  Morton. 
She  sometimes  gets  so  discouraged.  Won't  you  come 
in?" 


•  rnr--  ^_, 


TJ 


cplicd  Lina. 
of  her  gifts, 

ever  thought 
fs  I  might  do 
Bver  think  of 

this  thought- 

)ne  thing  ig 

from  itself/ 

:ht8  are  cen- 

saicl  Walter, 

jaf." 

efore  a  little 

rorn  woman, 
dress.    Her 

s  very  kind. 


[iss  Morton, 
't  you  come 


WAI.TER    HARLEy's  CONQUEST.  16 

"Not  now,  thank  you;  I  will  be  in  to-morrow,"  said 
Lin  . 

"Oh,  Lina,  what  must  it  be  to  be  ill  in  a  place  like 
that?"  exclaimed  Walter,  as  they  turned  away. 

"  Mrs.  Elstoo  keeps  everything  clean  and  tidy,"  replied 
Lina. 

"Oh,  yes,  tidy  enough,  but  the  rooms  are  so  small; 
and  then  think  of  having  the  smell  of  the  cooking,  and 
the  noise  of  the  children,  and  all  the  work  going  on 
close  around  one." 

"Many  peo[)le  have  to  live  that  way,"  returned  Lina; 
"and  these  things  may  interest  her  sometimes,  with 
nothing  else  to  do.  She  is  my  heroine ;  she  is  so  patient 
through  all  her  weary  hours.  It  is  a  great  trial  to  her 
not  to  be  able  to  help  her  mother ;  and  on  days  when 
she  feels  brighter  and  better,  I  have  seen  her  trying  to 
do  some  of  the  sewing  for  the  family.  She  can  do  some 
fancy  work,  and  it  so  amuses  her  that  I  interested  some 
of  my  pupils  in  her.  They  gave  her  orders  for  work,  and 
this  Christmas  she  was  able  to  earn  a  little  money,  and 
you  should  have  teen  how  pleased  she  was.  Sometimes  V 
she  thinks  she  will  get  better, — consumption  is  such  a 
flattering  disease, — but  I  know  her  mother  has  no  hope." 

By  this  time  they  had  reached  Lina's  door,  and,  with 
a  cheery  good-night,  Walter  went  on  his  way  down  town. 


i 


16  WALTKR    HAni.EY's  CONQlTEfiT. 

He  Boon  accomplished  his  crrnnd,  and  started  for  home. 
As  he  left  the  fnvii  l)ehind  him,  ho  slaekem-d  his  pace, 
and  gave  him.seif'  up  to  thought. 

Walter  wa«  a  good-hearted  boy;  none  were  more  will, 
ing  to  help  otiiers  than  he,  and  he  waa  a  general  favor- 
ite among  his  school  fellows.  But  he  was  rather  ease- 
loving,  and  there  was  nothing  in  his  surroundings  to 
counteract  this  tendency;  for  he  waa  not  obliged  by 
circumstances,  a^  many  are,  to  do  things  ho  did  not 
like. 

This  evening  he  felt  as  though  he  had  had  a  glimpae 
into  a  new  life— a  higher  one  than  that  he  was  leading. 
Walter  had  trusted  in  Jesus,  and  had  begun  to  try  and 
follow  him.  He  had  prayed  to  be  made  unselfish;  but 
he  had  never  before  realized  how  much  selfishness  there 
waa  in  him.  Perhaps  that  vision  of  something  better 
waa  a  call  to  him  to  come  up  higher.  Would  the  coming 
year  see  some  effort  to  obey  that  call?  Solemnly,  earn- 
eatly,  Walter  resolved  that  it  should. 


i%,  ,; 


%c 


r'fi  C0NQITE6T. 

nnd,  and  sturtod  for  home, 
ini,  he  Hhic'keiied  liis  pace, 
t. 

l)oy;  none  were  more  will- 
d  he  waa  a  general  favor- 

But  he  was  ratlier  ease- 
f  in  hia  surroundings  to 

he  waa  not  obliged  by 

0  do  things  ho  did  not 

?h  ho  had  had  a  glimpae 
than  that  he  was  leading, 
nd  had  begun  to  try  and 

1  bo  made  unselfish;  but 
)w  much  selfisliness  there 
ion  of  Boniething  better 
her.  Would  the  coming 
t  call?  Solemnly,  earn- 
mld. 


CHAPTER  II. 

"  LirfLK   DEEDS  OP   KINDNESS." 

WALTER  was  awakened  next  morning  by  the  bell 
for  rising.  Ho  had  been  in  the  habit  of  paying 
very  little  attention  to  it;  then,  almost  at  the  lost 
minute,  he  would  jump  up,  dress  in  a  great  hurry,  and 
get  down  just  in  time  for  prayers,  congratulating  himself 
on  his  punctuality.  But  this  morning  ho  remembered 
his  resolve  to  turn  over  u  new  leaf-"  and  it  is  better  to 
begin  on  the  last  day  of  the  old  year,  and  so  finish  it  up 
well,  than  wait  for  the  new  year,"  he  thought.  As  he 
did  not  wait  for  second  thoughts,  ho  was  soon  up  and 
dressed.  Then  he  sat  down  in  an  easy  chair  by  the 
window,  and  looked  around  for  something  to  occupy  him 
until  breakfast  time. 

Such  a  cosy  room  it  was,  bearing  on  every  hand  traces 
of  a  mother's  loving  fingers.  The  walls  were  covered 
with  a  Ught,  cheerful  paper ;  the  carpet  showed  a  pretty 
pattern  of  running  vines  in  brown  on  a  green  ground; 
white  window  curtains  were  drawn  back  and  kept  in 
place  by  pink  ribbon  ;  on  the  bureau  was  a  dainty  toilet 
SPt  in  pink  and  white.     A  pretty  desk  stood  in  one 

B  17 


18 


WAf-TRR    IIAnT.EY's  CONQtTRST. 


corner  of  the  room.  On  one  wall  wiw  a  liimxing  book- 
eluilf,  with  hookH  of  travel  and  lulvciituro,  Huch  tw  boys 
liko,  interspcrHcd  with  hcIjooI  l)()okH  and  a  few  workH  of 
a  ),'ravfr  ciiiiractor.  PictiiroH  aino  InniK  alt.mt  the  walU 
—  one,  of  littlo  Huimiol  kncolinK  in  prayer,  Walter  had 
liad  ever  wince  he  eould  reinenil)er  ;  then  there  were  two 
littlo  bita  of  land:<eai>e,  and  a  fine  steel  enj,'raving  of  one 
of  Landseer's  pietnres.  On  a  littlo  table  lay  an  uncut 
nuvgazine,  a  daily  text  book,  and  his  Bible. 

As  Walter  glanced  around  the  room  his  eye  fell  on 
the  latter,  and  with  shame  he  remembered  that  of  late 
it  had  been  too  much  neglected.  "I  can  never  be  a 
good  soldier  of  Jesus  Christ  if  I  do  not  read  my.Captain's 
orders,"  he  said  to  himself.  "  I  will  try,  after  this,  to  find 
time  to  read  a  few  verses  every  day." 

So  he  opened  the  Bible  at  tlio  Epistle  to  the  Romans. 
The  little  blue  marker  showed  the  i)lttce  where  he  had 
left  off  some  days  before.  It  lay  at  the  fifteenth  chapter, 
and  the  words  came  with  new  power  to  Walter :  "  We 
then  that  are  strong  ought  to  bear  the  infirmities  of  the 
weak,  and  not  to  please  ourselves  ...  for  even  Christ 
pleased  not  himself." 

Walter's  mother  had  always  taught  him  that  the  best 
way  to  study  the  Bible  was  to  read  the  references  to  any 
passage;   so  he  read  in  the  Epistle  to  the  Galatians: 


lilting  book- 
wiich  a»  liDyH 
fow  workH  of 
).)ut  tho  wiillri 
•,  VViiltor  had 
loro  wore  two 
riiving  of  ono 
loy  nil  ui:cut 

is  eye  fell  on 
1  that  of  Into 
1  never  be  a 
my.t'nptnin's 
Dr  this,  to  find 

>  the  Romans, 
vhcre  he  hnd 
>enth  chapter, 
Valter:  "We 
rniities  of  the 
r  even  Christ 

1  that  the  l)e8t 
jrences  to  any 
le  Galntinns : 


I 


WAI/rKR    HAnLRV'ft  OOKQURHT.  19 

"Bear  ye  ono  another's  burdens,  nnd  mo  fulfil  the  law 
of  Christ";  and  in  1  Tho«sal«»niuns,"Kui.p(»rt  the  weak"; 
and  in  the  Acts,  "S(»  labouring,  ye  ought  to  sui.port  the 
weak."  For  a  ftw  nionienUt  ho  knelt  in  prayer,  nxking 
tlio  aid  of  tho  Holy  Bpirit  to  cafry  out  in  his  life  tiio 
words  he  had  just  been  reading,  and  then  wont  down 
witli  a  hai)py  heart  to  join  the  family  in  tho  breakfast 

room. 

As  Walter  was  now  enjoying  Christmas  holidays,  ho 
had  considerable  time  to  himself;  so,  atler  breakfast,  he 
went  up  to  what  he  called  his  workshop.  This  was  a 
room  in  the  attic,  where  ho  kept  tools,  pnint,  etc.,  and 
where  he  exercised  his  ingenuity  in  making  a  few  things 
nnd  spoiling  a  good  many  more.  In  one  part  of  tho 
room  he  had  his  gymnasium,  and  before  sitting  down  to 
work  ho  went  through  several  exercises.  He  had  just 
fairly  settled  down,  and  was  whittling  and  planing  at 
a  great  rate,  when  his  sister  Carrie  came  in,  and,  after 
hovering  about  in  an  uncertain  way  for  a  while,  said : 

"  Walter,  I  wish  you  would  come  out  skating  with  me 
by-and-by ;  the  ice  is  lovely  on  the  pond." 

Carrie  hnd  her  first  pair  of  skates  given  to  her  at 
Christmas,  and  was  beginning  to  learn  to  skate  on  a 
small  sheet  of  ice  near  the  house ;  but  she  was  ambitious 
to  try  on  some  larger  piece. 


20 


WALTER    HA'tLEY's  CONQUEST. 


"  I  can  stand  on  my  skates  now,"  she  added,  encour- 
agingly. 

Walter  smiled.  To  go  out  skating; with  a  child  who 
was  only  just  learning  was  rather  dull  work ;  but  he 
remembered  the  text  of  the  morning,  "Even  Christ 
pleased  not  himself,"  and  said,  cheerily : 

"All  right,  Carrk;  I  will  go  with  you  at  eleven 
o'clock." 

By  eleven  o'clock  Carrie  was  all  ready,  and  was  soon 
skipping  merrily  along  by  the  side  of  her  brother.  It 
was  a  beautiful,  bright  morning — not  too  cold  for  enjoy- 
ment. To  reach  the  pond  they  went  across  some  open 
fields,  and  down  the  hill  to  a  low,  swampy  tract  of 
ground,  through  which  ran  a  small  stream.  The  .  Lream 
overflowed  its  banks  in  spring  and  autumn,  forriing  a 
miniature  lake,  which  was  now  a  wide  expanse  of  ice. 
As  it  was  perfectly  safe,  it  was  a  favcite  resort  for 
youthful  skaters  who  were  not  allowed  by  their  parents 
to  go  on  the  river. 

Walter  soon  had  Carrie's  skates  on,  after  which  fol- 
lowed many  awkward  attempts  on  her  part  to  skate,  with 
some  tumbles.  But  with  Walter's  strong  hand  to  hold 
her  up,  she  did  pretty  well,  and  really  began  to  improve. 
Of  course,  there  was  no  fun  in  all  this  for  Walter,  and 
by-and-by  he  began  to  weary  of  it. 


m, 


WALTKR    HARLEVa   COIQUEST. 


21 


,  encour- 

liild  who 
;  but  he 
1  Christ 

t  eleven 

was  soon 
ther.  It 
or  enjoy- 
)me  open 
tract  of 
le .  Lream 
)rrang  a 
se  of  ice. 
esort  for 
r  parents 

hich  fol- 
iate, with 
[  to  hold 
improve, 
liter,  and 


"  Don't  you  feel  tired  now,  Carrie  ?  "  he  said. 

"  Oh,  I  am  not  a  bit  tired,"  said  the  little  damsel, 
innocently. 

"  Still,  it  does  not  do  to  stay  out  too  long  at  first,  you 
know,  till  you  get  accustomed  to  it,"  continued  Walter, 
with  an  air  of  superior  wisdom. 

"  We  have  not  been  out  long,  Wally,  and  I  am  getting 
on  so  nicely  now." 

"  Well,  I  will  take  a  turn  to  the  end  of  the  pond, 
and  you  try  and  go  alone  for  a  little  while;  you  will 
learn  more  that  way,"  said  Walter,  wheeling  around  on 
one  foot,  and  making  curves  and  flourishes  which  Carrie 
thought  simply  wonderful  as  she  stood  there  balancing 
herself  on  her  skates,  afraid  to  move  for  fear  she  would 
fall. 

"  Don't  be  long,"  called  Carrie.  But  by  this  time 
Walter  was  almost  out  of  hearing.  Away  he  glided  to 
the  other  end  of  the  pond  and  up  the  stream  for  a  little 
distance.  When  he  returned  he  found  that  three  or  four 
of  Carrie's  little  girl  friends  had  come  on  the  ice,  and  were 
helping  her  along;  so  he  started  off  to  enjoy  himself. 
He  had  not  gone  very  far,  before  he  overtook  a  little  boy 
who  seemed  to  be  having  trouble  with  his  skates. 

"  What  is  the  matter  ? "  asked  Walter.  "  Can't  you 
make  your  skates  stay  on  ?  " 


W: 


22 


WALTER    HARLEY's  CONQUEST. 


"  They  are  loose,  and  I  haven't  any  wrench,"  replied 
the  little  fellow. 

"  I  have  one,"  returned  Walter, "  and  I  will  soon  make 
them  all  right." 

It  was  some  time,  however,  before  he  could  make  them 
fit.  But  the  little  chap  was  so  pleased  that  Walter  felt 
rewarded  for  his  trouble,  though  he  had  only  time  him- 
self for  one  more  skate  around  the  pond  before  dinner 
time. 

In  the  afternoon  Walter  started  off  for  a  skate  on  the 
river.  He  had  not  gone  far  before  he  heard  a  calling 
and  hallooing,  and  looking  back  saw  Arthur,  Mary, 
Adeline,  and  Stanley  Harrington  coming  along  the.road 
after  him,  all  bent  on  the  same  errand  as  himself. 

The  Harringtons  lived  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from 
Elmwood,  and  were  very  intimate  friends  of  the  Har- 
leys.  Judge  Harrington  had  been  very  successful  in  his 
chosen  profession — that  of  the  law — and  had  risen  step 
by  step  until  he  had  reached  his  present  position.  He 
had  a  large  family  of  sons  and  daughters  growing  up 
around  him,  and  a  pleasauter  circle  it  would  be  hard  to 
find. 

We  will  glance  at  the  four  who  now  joined  Walter. 

Arthur  was  twelve,  but  being  small  of  his  age  looked 
much  younger  than  Walter.    Having  been  delicate  in 


5r-f!" 


Jf 


WALTER    HARLEY'S  CONQUEST. 


23 


"  replied 

3on  make 

ake  them 
'"alter  felt 
tiiine  him- 
re  dinner 

ite  on  the 
a  calling 
ir,  Mary, 
the.road 
If. 

mile  from 
the  Har- 
ful  in  hia 
risen  step 
tion.  He 
owing  up 
e  hard  to 

I  Walter, 
ge  looked 
elicate  ia 


early  childhood,  he  was  not  so  advanced  in  many  respects 
as  most  boys  of  his  age;  but  he  was  a  bright,  pleasant 
little  fellow,  with  very  gentle  manners.  I  'ary,  a  healthy, 
blooming  girl  of  fourteen,  with  unbounded  vitality  and 
energy,  made  quite  a  contrast  to  her  brother.  She 
entered  with  great  spirit  into  all  kinds  of  out-door 
amusements,  and  excelled  in  them  all.  Her  lively  con- 
versation, temi>ered  as  it  was  with  good  common  sense, 
made  her  a  very  agreeable  companion.  Walter  liked 
her,  and  a  pleasant  boy  and  girl  friendship  existed 
between  them. 

Adeline  was  eighteen,  and  consequently  quite  a  young 
lady.  Walter  thought  her  very  pretty,  and  most  people 
would  agree  with  him.  She  ahvay  dressed  well  and  in 
good  taste,  and  withal  had  a  style  about  her  which  made 
her  look  well  in  almost  anything  she  chose  to  put  on. 
Walter  was  rather  in  awe  of  her,  as  she  was  quite  witty 
and  somewhat  sarcastic.  He  often  felt,  too,  inclined  to 
resent  her  patronizing  manner  toward  him,  whom  she 
classed  among  the  younger  ones. 

Stanley  was  a  tall,  slender  young  man  of  twenty,  pale- 
faced  and  dark-haired.  He  was  attending  college,  and 
was  home  now  for  his  holidays.  It  was  generally  under- 
stood that  he  intended  to  follow  his  father's  profession. 
Some  thought  him  wanting  in  energy,  but  they  little 


24  WALTER    barley's   CONQUEST. 

dreamed  of  the  force  of  character  hidden  beneath  a 
quiet  exterior.  Stanley  waa  as  proud  of  his  sister  Ade- 
line as  she  was  fond  of  him,  and  they  were  constantly 
together  when  he  waa  at  home. 

The  party  went  merrily  on.  Not  finding  very  good 
skating  near  the  town,  they  crossed  the  river  and  skated 
up  toward  a  tributary  stream  which  waa  now  one  sheet 
of  smooth,  clear  ice.  The  elder  ones  met  some  friends, 
and  stopped  on  the  way;  so  the  others  found  themselves 
far  ahead.  Walter  and  Mary,  who  had  skated  fast,  were 
glad  to  throw  themselves  down  on  the  ice  and  rest. 

The  sun  was  setting,  and  the  western  sky  waa  bright 
with  golden  light,  while  a  faint,  rose'colored  mist  hung 
upon  the  eastern  horizon.  All  was  perfect  stillness,  and 
something  of  that  quiet  rested  on  the  two  young  friends ; 
and  for  a  while  neither  of  them  spoke.  Mary  first  broke 
the  silence. 

"What  a  perfect  day  it  isl  Do  you  know  on  days 
like  this,  when  everything  in  nature  around  one  is  so 
'beautiful,  I  feel  such  a  longing  come  over  me  to  be  of 
some  use  in  the  world— to  so  fill  my  life  with  noble 
deeds  that  it  would  be  worth  living.  I  would  like  so 
much  to  be  a  doctor,  and  I  will  some  day,"  she  added, 
with  suddei.    nergy  and  mth  almost  a  defiant  air. 

"  You  I "  said  Walter,  in  open-eyed  amazement. 


I 


eneath  a 
iter  Ade- 
>nstantly 

iry  good 
d  skated 
me  Hheet 
:  friends, 
emselves 
'ast,  were 

St. 

IS  bright 
ist  bung 
acss,  and 
friends ; 
•st  broke 

on  days 
»ne  is  so 
to  be  of 
;h  noble 
like  so 
3  added, 


WALTER    IIAULEY's  CONQUEST. 


20 


I 


i   ' 


"  Yes,  why  not  ?  I  do  not  see  nuythiug  unwomanly  in 
it,  and  one  could  do  good  that  way.  I  know  they  will 
laugh  at  me  at  home,  but  that  shall  not  hinder  nie." 
And  she  pressed  her  lips  together  firmly. 

"  Molly,  I  would  never  have  thought  of  you  as  wuutint^ 
to  be  a  doctor." 

"  I  suppose  you  think,  as  every  one  else  does,  that  I  am 
only  a  fun-loving  girl,  with  no  thought  of  doing  serious 
work  in  the  world ;  but  I  am  in  earnest."  And  there 
were  tears  in  her  brown  eyes. 

"  I  am  sure  you  are ;  but  you  do  not  know  what  hard 
work  it  is,  both  in  the  study  and  the  practice." 

"  Yes ;  but  it  is  the  ambition  of  my  life ;  it  is  the  work 
I  want  to  do  so  much,  and  that  will  make  it  easier ;  and 
I  am  strong  and  healthy.  But  I  do  not  know  how  I  ever 
came  to  say  all  this.  You  will  not  tell  any  one  just  now. 
Walter,  will  you?" 

"  I  will  keep  your  secret,"  said  Walter ;  "  and  I,  fot 
one,  wish  you  well." 

"  Thank  you,"  replied  Mary. 

She  had  no  time  to  say  more,  as  just  then  the  rest  of 
♦he  party  appeared  in  view. 

"Here  you  are,  I  declare,  having  a  flirtation,"  said 
Adeline  ;  "  we  thought  you  were  lost.  Isn't  this  ice  per- 
fection?" 


26 


WALTER    HARLEY'S  CONQUEST. 


"  Come,  A.da,"  said  Stanley,  "  it  is  time  we  were  goiug 
Lome." 

"  You  provoking  creature,  that  is  wliat  you  always  say 
when  I  am  enjoying  myself,  and  do  not  want  to  leave." 

"  It  is  your  own  fault,"  returned  her  brother ;  "  we 
would  have  been  here  long  ago,  if  you  had  not  wasted 
time  talking  to  the  Bentleys." 

"  Wasted  time,  indeed  I  "  replied  Ada,  "  when  I  had 
not  seen  them  for  so  long,  and  had  so  many  important 
things  to  say.  You  seemed  to  enjoy  skating  with  Fannie 
verv  well,  I  thought." 

"  Oh,  I  had  to  fill  up  the  time  somehow,"  said  Stanley. 

"  Quite  to  your  satisfaction,  though,  I  fancy,"  returned 
Ada.    "  Come,  Molly,  we  ought  to  be  on  our  way  home." 

"  Let  us  all  join  hands  and  skate  down  to  the  mouth 
of  the  stream  together,"  proposed  Stanley. 

Soon  all  five  were  gliding  rapidly  over  the  smooth  ice. 

When  they  reached  the  other  side  of  the  river,  Walter 
left  the  party,  as  he  had  n.  message  to  deliver  for  his 
father,  which  took  him  a  dififerent  way.  Climbing  the 
steep  bank,  he  passed  close  by  the  back  yard  of  a  little 
cottage.  An  old  woman  was  tottering  across  the  yard 
with  an  arm  full  of  wood. 

"  How  are  you  Aunt  Jane  ?  "  called  Walter. 

Nurse  Brown,  or,  as  she  was  commonly  called.  Aunt 


"te.. 


3re  goiug 

ways  say 
leave." 


er; 


'we 


>t  wasted 

n  I  had 
nportant 
1  Fannie 

Stanley, 
returned 
r  home." 
e  mouth 

ooth  ice. 
,  Walter 

for  hia 
)ing  the 

a  little 
he  yard 


d,  Aunt 


WALTER    HARLEY's  CONQUEST. 


27 


Jane,  had  been  Mrs.  Harlcy's  nurse  iu  childhood,  and 
was  a  fiivorite  with  the  young  Harleys. 

The  old  woman  turned  and  looked  for  a  moment  at  the 
boyish  speaker,  whom  she  could  only  dimly  see  in  the 
dusk. 

"  Don't  you  know  me? "  said  Walter. 

"  Oh,  Master  Walter,  is  that  you  ?  I  couldn't  think 
who  it  was  at  first,  you  are  growing  so  tall.  Come  in  and 
sit  down.  I  have  had  the  rheumatism,  and  I  am  rather 
stiff  these  days,"  she  continued ;  "  but  it  might  be  worse 
with  me  than  it  is."' 

"  You  are  not  alone,  are  you  ?  "  said  Walter. 

"  No ;  a  niece  of  mine  stays  with  me.  She  goes  out 
all  day  sewing;  but  she  is  company  for  me  in  the 
evening." 

"  You  ought  not  to  be  carrying  in  wood,"  said  Walter. 

"  The  neighbors'  boys  often  come  in  and  do  little  chorea 
for  me ;  but  I  guess  they  are  off  playing  to-day." 

"  I'll  bring  some  wood  in."  And  before  she  could  say 
a  word,  Walter  was  off  to  the  wood  shed. 

He  soon  had  her  wood  box  piled  full,  answering  her 
inquiries  about  the  different  members  of  the  family  the 
while.  Then  he  went  to  work  splitting  kindlings,  paying 
no  attention  to  Aunt  Jane's  remonstrances. 

"There,  now  you  will  soon  have  a  good  fire,"  he 


_^''" 


*■ 


28 


WALTER    HARLEY'S  COXQUEST. 


said,  slipping  in- some  of  the  dry  kindlings  between  the 
l)iece8  of  dam])  wood. 

"  You  are  your  mother's  own  boy,"  said  ^Vunt  Jano, 
admiringly;  "she  was  always  helping  somebody." 

"  I  wish  to  be  like  her,"  replied  Walter.  And  without 
waiting  to  hear  the  parting  blessings  showered  on  him  by 
the  old  nurse,  he  ran  off  on  the  way  toward  home.  He 
must  hiive  left  sunshine  behind  him ;  for  somehow  things 
looked  very  bright  to  Aunt  Jane  as  she  went  back  into 
her  little  room. 

As  for  Walter,  he  reached  home  quite  in  the  niooc!  to 
romp  with  the  little  ones  till  the  tea  bell  rang. 

That  evening,  passing  through  the  kitchen,  he  found 
Hannah,  the  cook,  over  a  closely-written  sheet. 

"  A  letter  from  your  sweetheart,  Hannah  ?  "  said  Wal- 
ter, mischievously. 

"Sweetheart!  No,"  returned  Hannah,  scornfully. 
"  I  wouldn't  be  bothered  with  the  likes  of  them.  It  is 
from  my  brother  Jim,  -nd  see  the  lovely  Christmas  card 
he  sent  me,  and  it  only  got  here  this  morning."  Here 
she  carefully  drew  out  a  really  handsome  card  to  show  to 
Walter.  Then,  with  some  pride,  she  took  from  an  en- 
velope a  New  Year's  card.  "  I  want  to  send  this  to  him," 
she  said,  "and  I'd  like  to  send  a  few  lines  to  tell  him  I 
am  well  j  but,  dear  me,  I  couldn't  write  a  letter  fit  to  be 


WALTER    HARI.EY's   CONtilTEsT. 


29 


tw^n  the 

int  Juno, 

r." 

d  without 
n  him  by 
line.  He 
)W  things 
back  into 


<}to 


mooi 


be  found 

iid  Wal- 

ornfully. 
11.  It  is 
rias  card 
'  Here 
show  to 
an  en- 
to  him," 
I  him  I 
fit  to  be 


seen  to  save  my  life.  Jim  is  such  un  iligant  writer,"  she 
added,  looking  admiringly  at  the  numerous  strokes  and 
flourishes  jti  the  sheet  before  her. 

Walter  inwardly  smiled  at  the  idea  of  applying  the 
term  elegant  to  Jim's  cramped,  irregular  handwriting. 

"  Shall  I  write  it  for  you  ?  "  ho  said. 

"  Indeed,  and  I  would  be  greatly  obliged,  if  it's  no  put 
out  to  yourself" 

"  Not  at  all,"  returned  Walter.  He  went  into  the 
library  for  pen  and  ink,  and  his  eye  fell  on  the  new 
magazine  lying  temptingly  open  on  the  table ;  but  it  was 
with  no  regret  that  he  closed  it,  and  returned  to  patiently 
put  on  paper  all  Hannah's  messages.  He  was  a  good 
writer;  and,  when  the  letter  was  finished,  regarded  it 
with  pardonable  pride,  while  Hannah  was  simply 
delighted.  When  he  went  back  to  the  library,  he  found 
his  mother  sitting  alone  by  the  fire ;  and  glad  to  have 
mother  all  to  himself,  he  threw  himself  down  on  the 
hearth  rug,  and  recounted  the  day's  doings. 

"  I  am  glad  my  boy  has  been  trying  to  help  others  to- 
day," said  Mrs.  Harley,  when  he  had  finished. 

"  Oh,  but  mother,  they  were  such  little  things.  They 
st>em  hardly  worth  naming." 

"  But,  my  dear  boy,"  said  Mrs.  Harley,  "  do  not  these 
little  things,  as  you  call  them,  make  up  life  ?    I  am  sure, 


■     l|,B«  ,.lll|iiu»ini|jn.iii 


80 


WALTKK    HARLKY's  CONQUEST. 


I,  for  one,  would  be  discournged,  if  I  thought  they  were 
of  no  imjwrtance ;  for  my  days  are  hvrgoly  niado  up  of 
jimt  such  opportunities  for  doing  good.  You  renieniher 
the  familiar  old  hymn  yon  used  to  sing  when  a  child : 

"  '  Little  dcHHlH  of  klnilncsg, 

Little  words  of  lovo, 
<      Make  our  earth  an  Eden, 

Like  to  heaven  above ' I " 

"  But  do  you  not  think  it  would  be  nice  to  do  some 
great  thing,  mamma? " 

"  Yes,  if  God  gives  us  some  great  thing  to  do,  but  not 
otherwise.  It  is  best  to  do  just  the  work  that  God  places 
before  us.  We  are  simply  called  to  be  faithful,  and/  he 
that  is  faithful  over  a  few  things '  will  one  day  be  made 
'  ruler  over  many  things.'  Yet,  Walter,  when  you  think 
of  it,  it  is  no  little  thing,  but  a  very  solemn  resjwnsibility 
and  privilege,  to  show  forth  Christ  in  all  the  relations  of 
life." 

"  How  can  we  do  that,  mother?"  said  Walter. 
■"  You  know  God  reveals  himself  to  us  through  earthly 
relationships.  He  calls  himself  our  Father  in  heaven, 
that  we  who  know  what  'father'  means  may  better 
understand  the  love  and  care  of  God  toward  us.  Then 
Christ  is  spoken  of  as  our  Elder  Brother.  Now  you  are 
an  elder  brother ;  and  if  day  by  day  you  try  to  be  a 


•  s^sjgsftjjatag  ill  MMm\ 


iinw-BiwM»irg»'a' 


hey  were 

<Io  Uj)  of 

umeiiiher 
jUild: 


do  some 

but  not 
>d  plaeca 
and  '  he 
be  made 
)u  think 
nsibility 
iiona  of 


earthly 
heaven, 
r  better 
Then 
you  are 
to  be  a 


WALTER    HAIU.KY's   CONQUFKI'. 


31 


loving,  kind,  helpful  brother  to  your  little  nlHicrH,  then 
when  they  hear  Chrint  8])()ken  uf  im  an  Elder  Drothur, 
they  will  be  drawn  to  him,  and,  renKtmluMin^r  all  you 
have  been  to  them,  they  will  be  helped  to  undcrrland  the 
love  and  tenderneHH  of  Jesus." 

"  Oh,  mother,  I  never  thought  of  it  in  that  li;,dit  before. 
I  am  afraid  I  can  never  do  it;  I  fail  so  often  in  being 
what  I  should  be." 

"  '  I  can  do  all  things  through  Christ,  wliicii  strength- 
eneth  me,'  "  replied  his  mother,  gently.  "  llis  '  grace  is 
sufficient.'  You  have  done  it  to-day,  in  your  kindness  to 
your  little  sister.  Little  things  make  a  deep  impression 
in  little  hearts,  and  are  often  carried  as  a  life-long  remem- 
brance, influencing  the  acts  of  the  full-grown  man  or 
woman." 

"  It  makes  life  seem  very  solemn,"  said  Walter,  as  ho 
kissed  his  mother  good-night. 

"  Yes,  and  very  happy  too,  dear,"  she  answered. 

And  her  words  rang  in  Walter's  ears  till  they  mingled 
with  his  dreams,  and  seemed  to  drift  away  and  blend  in 
"  a  Happy  New  Year." 


CHAPTER  III. 

A    DAY   AT  UNOLK  ZKBEDEE'h. 

*'  llfELL,  mother,"  said  Mr.  Hurley,  next  morning 
»  '    ftt  break  tost,  "I  suppose  you  are  all  ready  for 
an  early  Htart  to  Uncle  Zebedee's." 

"  You  would  not  wish  to  set  off  before  eleven  o'clock, 
would  you?  Then  we  would  reach  there  soon  after 
twelve ;  that  would  be  about  the  time  they  would  expect 
us,  would  it  not  ? " 

"  If  we  were  to  come  when  they  expected  us,  wo  would 
bo  on  our  way  now,"  replied  Mr.  Ilarley ;  "  for  when 
country  folks  ask  one  to  spend  the  day,  they  mean  the 
day,  and  not  half  of  it,  as  town  people  do.  But  as  it  is 
winte.  time,  and  they  will  not  be  up  so  very  early,  I 
presume  it  will  do  to  start  punctually  at  eleven." 

"  And  we  are  to  go  to  Rev.  Mr.  Upham's  donation 
party  in  the  evening,  are  we  ?  "  said  his  wife. 

"  That  is  the  idea,"  returned  Mr.  Harley.    "  I  think 

Uncle  Zcbedeo  wanted  to  make  sure  of  us  by  inviting  us 

to  his  place  to  dinner.     When  he  was  in  the  office  some 

days  ago,  he  mentioned  that  the  people  thought  of  giving 

their  minister  a  donation  party  on  New  Year's  evening, 
82 


mm^ 


.^^ 


WAI-TKU    HAHLKV'h   CONQUKJST. 


33 


'.  morniii)^ 
ready  for 

sn  o'clock, 
oon  after 
lid  expect 

wo  would 
for  when 
mean  the 
ut  na  it  ia 

y  early,  I 

»> 

donation 

"I  think 
iviting  us 
ffice  some 
of  giving 
evening. 


BO  I  drew  out  my  poukcthook,  and  was  about  to  hand 
him  something,  '  Oii,  no,'  ho  Httid,  *  conic  and  hriiig  it 
yoursi'lf ;  wo  want  your  preHcnco,  as  well  iw  your  money. 
Come,  and  ho  ready  to  say  a  few  wordn.' 

"  r  told  him  that  we  were  getting  to  ho  such  stay-at- 
home  old  people,  that  I  didn't  believe  wo  could  take  such 
an  excursion.  In  fact,  wo  enjoyed  uur  own  fireside  in 
the  evening. 

" '  Come  now,'  he  said, '  you  have  a  cosy  home ;  but 
you  needn't  be  so  fond  o'*  it  as  all  that,  and  you  arc  not  so 
old  but  that  you  could  drive  a  few  miles  on  a  winter 
night ;  and  then  you  know  we  like  to  see  a  few  friends 
from  the  town.' 

"  So  I  went  so  far  as  to  day  that,  if  the  weather  was 
favoralde,  we  would  try  and  be  there.  Not  long  after, 
uncle  came  asking  us  to  spend  the  day  with  tjiem." 

"  I  am  so  glad.  I  think  it  will  be  si)lcudid,"  said 
Walter. 

"  It  will  quite  remind  us  of  old  times,  Alfred,"  said 
Mrs.  Harley,  smiling. 

"Yes,"  he  replied.  "Do  you  remember,  Alice,  the 
time  when  a  sled  load  of  us  young  people  drove  up  to 
Elder  Smith's  donation  ?  " 

"  I  should  think  so ;  that  was  the  time  -vben  we  were 

upset  in  a  snowdrift  on  our  way  home." 

c 


34 


WALTER    HARLEY's   CONQUEST. 


"  Oh,  what  fun  that  must  have  been  1 "  exclaimed 
Walter. 

"  I  did  not  mind  it  as  much  then  as  I  would  now," 
said  his  mother. 

"I  remember,"  said  Mr.  Harley,  '•  that  I  was  so  anxious 
for  fear  you  might  have  been  hurt,  Alice." 

"  And  I  never  knew  that  you  cared  anything  about 
me,  then,"  returned  his  wife. 

"  Ah,  Walter ! "  said  his  father,  with  a  merry  twinkle 
in  his  eye,  "  those  were  the  good  old  days." 

"  I  presume  there  are  just  as  good  ones  yet  to  come, 
sir,"  returned  Walter. 

"  No  doubt,"  said  his  mother,  "  but  it  is  the  especial 
privilege  of  old  people  to  have  lived  in  days  better,  in 
their  estimation,  than  any  their  descendants  will  see." 

"  Papa,"  said  Carrie,  timidly,  "  you  don't  think  we  will 
be  upset  to-day,  do  you  ?" 

"  Oh,  no,  dear ;  not  unless  our  good  old  horse  should 
run  away,  which  is  not  at  all  likely.  Thetime  mamma 
was  telling  about  was  later  in  the  season,  when  there  was 
a  great  deal  of  snow,  and  in  one  place  the  road  slanted 
so  that  the  sled  swung  very  much  to  one  side,  and  Avent 
BO  far  over  that  we  were  all  neatly  turned  out  into  tiie 
snow." 

As  the  whole  fiimily  had  been  invited,  Mrs.  Harley 


xclaimcd 

Id  now," 

)  anxioua 

ig  about 

twinkle 

to  come, 

especial 
)etter,  in 
see." 
:  we  will 

3  should 
mamma 
bere  was 
slanted 
nd  went 
into  the 

Harlejr 


WALTER  harley's  cokquest.  35 

had  decided  to  take  both  Carrie  and  Bertha ;  but  she 
thought  it  best  to  leave  the  baby  home  with  Ann. 
Eleven  o'clock  found  all  the  party  comfortably  seated  in 
the  fiamily  sleigh ;  and  "  Frisk  "  was  soon  speeding  along 
the  road  toward  Uncle  Zebedee's. 

Zebedee  Brown  was  Mr.  Harley's  uncle,  and  was  the 
owner  of  a  large  farm,  about  twelve  miles  from  Kuowlton, 
The  young  Harleys  always  looked  forward  to  spending 
a  day  there  In  summer;  and  Walter  had  sometimes 
stayed  there  for  a  week  or  more.  Aunt  Susan  waa  a 
most  hospitable  soul,  and  could  never  do  enough  for  her 
nephew's  children. 

About  noon  they  came  in  sight  of  the  old  farmhouse. 
It  stood  some  distance  back  from  the  road,  near  the 
river  bank.  On  one  side  of  it  were  two  or  three  tall 
elms,  which  afforded  a  delightful  shade  in  summer. 
Beyond  these,  in  a  little  hollow,  grew  some  fii-s,  whoso 
dark  green  now  made  a  pleasant  contrast  to  the  white- 
ness of  the  winter  landscape.  The  good  people  of  the 
house  saw'  them  coming,  and  were  at  the  door  to  meet 
them  with  many  warm  greetings. 

"  Here  you  all  are,  safe  and  sound,"  said  Uncle  Zebe- 
dee. "Will,"  turning  to  a  tall  young  man  behind  him, 
"you  just  see  to  the  horse.  Come  right  in,  all  of  you. 
We  were  looking  for  you  before." 


■V.i-'- V* •^Mi-',(V:'-v-."  »"■-  -" 


36 


WALTER    HARLEY's   COXQUEfeT. 


"I  am  going  with  Will,  uncle,"  said  Walter,  who  felt 
quite  at  home,  and  was  anxious  to  see  some  of  his  favor- 
ites among  tho  stock.  "  Well,  Rover,  old  fellow,  how  are 
you  ? "  as  a  large,  shaggy  dog  leaped  up  on  him,  and 
almost  threw  him  down.  "  You  remember  me,  do  you?" 
While  Will  was  unharnessing  the  horse,  Walter  was 
looking  about  for  some  of  his  pets.  "Where  is  that 
bantam  you  used  to  have,  Will  ? " 

"  A  weasel  killed  her ;  mother  was  awful  sorry.  We 
caught  the  old  weasel  afterward — not  before  it  nad  taken 
some  fine  chickens,  tiiough." 

So  they  went  around,  till  Walter  had  seen  all  that  he 
wanted  to  see  out  of  doors.  Will  then  showed  him  into 
the  house  by  the  front  way. 

"  Come  in,  Walter,"  said  his  uncle,  calling  from  the 
parlor. 

It  must  be  confessed  the  best  room  had  but  little 
attraction  for  Walter.  It  looked  exactly  as  it  had  ever 
since  he  could  remember.  The  carpet  was  as  bright  and 
fresh  as  when  new.  The  chairs  all  stood  in  the  same 
places.  The  same  books  were  arranged  exactly  in  the 
same  way  on  the  centre  table;  the  same  pictures  and 
ornaments  stood  on  the  high  mantel;  and,  although 
there  was  a  good  fire  in  the  grate,  the  room  had  the 
chilly  air  of  one  which  is  seldom  used.    So  Walter  was 


■: 


,  who  felt 
his  favor- 
7,  how  are 
him,  and 
do  you?" 
alter  was 
i-e  is  that 

Try.    Wo 
nad  taken 

[1  that  he 
him  into 

from  the 

but  little 
had  ever 
iright  and 
the  same 
ly  in  the 
tures  and 
altliough 
I  had  the 
Salter  was 


WALTER    HAKLEYS   CONQUEST. 


37 


glad  to  make  his  escape  cut  into  the  family  sitting 
room,  where  today  the  dinner  table  was  set,  and  from 
thence  into  the  large,  old-fashioned  kitchen,  with  ita 
striiigs  of  dried  apples  and  ears  of  corn  hanging  from 
the  rafters.  In  one  corner  stood  a  spinning  wheel,  and 
piled  on  a  broad  shelf  near  lay  hanks  of  yarn,  spun  by 
nimble  fingers.  , 

Soon  dinner  was  announced,  and  all  were  ready  to  do 
ample  justice  to  Aunt  Susan's  good  cooking.  There  waa 
quite  a  party  around  the  table.  There  were  the  two 
"boys"  at  home— Will  and  George,  the  former  over 
twenty,  the  latter  thirty ;  and  to-day  tliey  had  also  with 
them  a  married  son,  with  his  wife  and  family. 

There  were  only  sons  now  in  the  family.  Once  a 
daugliter  had  brightened  their  home;  but  just  as  she 
was  developing  into  womanhood  she  was  called  away  to 
the  home  on  high.  It  was  years  since  then.;  but  when 
Aunt  Susan  begins  to  talk  about  Esther,  and  brings  out 
the  faded  daguerreotype  that  recalls  her  darling,  her 
tears  fall  fast.  It  was  a  great  blow  to  that  mother's 
heart ;  but  sorrow  made  her  very  tender  and  sympathefic. 

But  Aunt  Susan  was  very  happy  now,  surrounded  by 
such  a  gathering;  she  loaded  tlie  plates  of  her  guests 
with  good  things,  and  when  all  were  abundantly  satisfied, 
wondered  that  they  could  eat  no  .jiore. 


89 


WALTER    HABLEY's  CONQUEST. 


The  afternoon  passed  quickly  and  pleasantly  away. 
The  younger  members  of  the  party  spent  the  time  in 
games,  and  made  the  house  ring  with  their  merry  voices. 
They  even  induced  Uncle  Zebedee  to  play  "  Blind  Man's 
Buff"  with  tliem. 

About  seven  o'clock  the  older  members  of  the  family 
were  all  in  a  bustle  of  preparation,  making  ready  to  go 
to  the  parsonage.  The  farm  sleigh  was  brought  out,  and 
plenty  of  straw  thrown  in  the  bottom  to  sit  upon;  and 
then  various  mysterious  parcels  were  stowed  away,  with 
various  injunctions  to  be  careful. 

Walter  preferred  to  go  in  the  farm  sleigh  witli  his 
cousins — it  was  far  more  fun  ;  and  soon  they  were  slip- 
ping and  bumping  along  over  the  roads,  which,  owing  to 
the  fact  that  there  had  not  been  any  heavy  fall  of  snow, 
were  rather  rough.  It  was  a  cloudy  night,  and  not  very 
cold.  They  were  soon  at  the  parsonage,  which  was  only 
a  mile  distant,  where  already  several  sleighs  were  drawn 
up  in  the  yard.  The  house  was  lighted  up ;  and,  as  they 
drew  near  the  door,  they  could  hear  tlie  hum  of  many 
voices.  Then  the  door  was  opened,  and  they  were  all 
ushered  in,  and  the  mysterious  parcels  were  passed  out 
into  a  back  room. 

The  house  was  very  small,  and  v/ns  already  well  filled. 
The  elderly  ladies  occupied  the  best  room,  while  the 


tly  away. 
e  time  in 
ry  voices, 
lud  Man's 

he  family 
lady  to  go 
t  our,  and 
pon ;  and 
way,  with 

1  with  his 
were  slip- 
,  owing  to 
I  of  snow, 
1  not  very 
I  was  only 
ere  drawn 
d,  as  they 
[  of  many 
•  were  all 
tassed  out 

veil  filled, 
while  the 


I 


i 


WALTER    HARLEY's  CONQUEST. 


39 


younger  ones  were  to  be  found  in  the  sitting  room.  Most 
of  the  young  men,  as  well  as  many  of  the  older  ones, 
were  standing  about  in  the  hall.  Tiie  older  ones  gath- 
ered about  the  stove,  talking  on  general  matters;  the 
younger  ones  lingered  around  the  doorways  which  led 
into  the  rooms,  somewhat  too  bashful  to  enter  just  yet, 
and  encounter  the  glances  of  so  many  blooming  girls  and 
matrons. 

A  glimpse  into  the  little  dining  room  would  have 
yevealed  a  bewilderi"";  array  of  baskets  and  parcels, 
among  which  three  or  four  matronly  women  were  hov- 
ering about,  unpacking  and  arranging,  and  making 
preparations  for  the  supper.  As  for  the  minister  and 
his  wife,  they  were  in  and  out  everywhere,  and  anxious 
for  the  enjoyment  of  all. 

After  about  half  an  hour  there  was  a  call  to  order, 
and  one  of  the  deacons  stepped  forward  and  read  a  short 
address,  at  the  close  of  which  he  presented  to  the  pastor, 
in  the  name  of  those  present,  a  purse  of  money.  This 
was  not  all  the  good  man  received,  however,  for  there  was 
a  barrel  of  flour,  and  there  were  sacks  of  potatoes,  and 
poultry  and  butter  and  cheese ;  there  were  socks  and  stock- 
ings for  all  the  family,  knit  by  the  farmers'  good  wives. 
Some  of  the  young  girls  had  brought  fancy  work,  and 
the  young  men  nicknacks  and  ornaments  for  the  house. 


»iui  t.u'i",iBi)j-j,.'.-...,j:iw  mi 


•  I  If  .ji.|i.'ry?y»«wCT!'»jr' 


40 


WALTER    HARLEY's   OONQUE.ST. 


And  for  all  .this  the  good  pastor  thanked  them  most 
warmly,  for  he  knew  they  were  the  gifts  of  kind  hearts ; 
for  this  was  all  in  addition  to  his  salary,  which,  though 
not  large,  was  regularly  paid. 

Some  Liore  speeches  were  made,  and  many  kind, 
encouraging  words  spoken,  which  gladdened  the  min- 
ister's heart  as  much  as  did  the  gifts. 

After  this  every  one  became  very  sociable.  The 
bashful  )'0ung  men  were  soon  enjoying  themselves 
among  the  girls,  and  there  was  a  general  chatter  of 
voices  on  every  side.  Then  came  the  call  to  supj)er, 
and  a  gi-and  attack  was  made  on  the  cold  turkey  and 
ham  and  biscuits  and  coffee  and  frosted  cake  and  pies, 
of  which  there  seemed  to  be  no  end.  "^     ^ 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Harley  and  Walter  left  at  eleven  o'clock, 
as  they  had  a  long  v  "ve  before  them.  They  stopped  at 
Uncle  Zebedee's  for  Bertha  and  Carrie ;  and,  after  tney 
were  tucked  safely  in  the  sleigh,  the  whole  party  started 
for  home,  which  they  reached  in  due  time,  having  thor- 
oughly enjoyed  their  New  Year's  jaunt.  „ 


V 


i 


4 


mm 


W"^ 


-k 


em  moat 
I  hearts; 
1,  though 

ly  kind, 
the  mitt- 

e.  The 
emselves 
latter  of 
)  supi)er, 
•key  and 
ind  pie?, 

■•  ♦• 
1  o'clock, 
opped  at 
fter  tney 
y  started 
ing  thor- 


i 


i 


CHAPTER  IV. 

MB.   HARBISON "S   TALK   WITH  III8   BOYS. 

IT  was  the  first  Sunday  in  the  new  year — a  bright, 
beautiful  day.   The  sky  was  clfear  and  cloudless ;  the 
earth  pure  and  white  in  its  mantle  of  newly-fallen  snow. 

Did  some,  as  they  looked  forth  on  the  fair  scene,  think 
of  the  precious  words,  "Though  thy  sins  be  as  scarlet, 
they  shall  be  as  white  as  snow"?  Did  some  desire  to 
be  clothed  in  the  righteousness  of  Cln-ist,  of  which  that 
pure,  spotless  snow  was  but  a  faint  emblem?  Doubtless, 
some  did;  but  to  others,  perhaps  to  many,  it  was  only 
a  pleasant  winter  morning — nothing  more. 
.  It  was  not  without  serious  thoughts  that  Walter  went 
that  morning  to  church;  and  so  it  was  that  some  words 
in  the  sermon  seemed  just  spoken  for  him. 

"The  Now  Year,"  said  Mr.  Somers,  "is  like  a  blank 

book  opened  before  us,  on  whoso  fair  white  pages  each 

of  us  may  inscribe  a  record.    Some  may  say,  '  There  is 

nothing  in  my  life  worth  recording ;  it  is  only  a  round 

of  commonplace   duties.'     But  if,"  continued  the  min- 

ibcer,   "  each    commonplace,   homely  duty    be   done  in 

Christ's  name ;  if  the  petty  trials  and   burdens    and 
•  ,  41 


'"^Wi^A'fa'i*^!^! 


<^ 


It 


WALTER    IIAULKY's   CONQUEST. 


cares  of  every  day  be  borne  for  his  sake,  tlint  record 
will  be  one  on  which  the  Lord  will  smile  approval.  It 
is  doing  and  bearing  all  for  Jesus'  sake  which  ennobles 
life." 

Walter  went  to  dine  with  Uncle  Morton.  lie  always 
took  dinner  there' on  Sunday,  so  as  to  be  in  good  time 
for  Sunday-school.  He  liked  his  teacher  ve  y  much, 
and  did  not  care  to  miss  a  Sunday. 

Mr.  Harrison,  the  principal  of  the  academy  which 
AValter  attended,  was  teacher  of  his  class  in  Sunday- 
school.  He  wius  an  earnest,  devoted  Christian,  a  tal- 
ented man,  and  an  .excellent  teacher.  He  had  a  largo 
class  of  boys,  many  of  whom  were  also  his  pupils  in 
the  academy.  He  had  gained  a  strong  hold  oil  his 
scholars'  affections:  they  felt  that  he  had  a  deep, 
personal  interest  in  each  one  of  them ;  that  it  really 
made  a  difference  to  him  whether  they  tried  to  live 
right  Of  not ;  that  he  was  anxious  that  each  one  should 
give  his  heart  to  Jesus.  They  knew  too  that  he  gave 
them  his  best  thoughts — one  nught  say  his  very  self. 
No  thought  that  had  helped  him  was  withheld  from 
them.  Was  it  any  wonder  then  that  "  his  boys,"  as  he 
called  them,  esteemed  and  loved  him  ? 

The  room  in  which  the  Sunday-school  was  held  waa 
bright  and  cheerful.    Texts  of  Scripture  neatly  framed, 


, 


it  record 

•oval.     It 

ennobles 

[e  always 
Tood  time 
•y  much, 

iiy  which 

Sunday- 

m,  a  tal- 

l1  a  large 

])upils  in 

i  oti  hia 

a  deep, 

it  really 

\  to  live 

ne  should 

he  gave 

?ery  self. 

leld  from 

rs,"  as  he 

held  waa 
y  framed, 


I 


WALTEH    IIAllI-EY  S   CONQUI>iT. 


m 


and  pictures  illustrating  the  kssons  hung  upon  the  walls. 
Smaller  clivss  rooms  opened  out  of  iC,  one  of  which  was 
occupied  by  Mr.  Harrison's  class  during  the  lesson  hour. 

To-day  as  they  gathered  around  their  teacher  there 
was  an  interchange  of  New  Year's  greetings.  • 

"  I  trust  it  will  be  a  hap]iy  year  for  each  one  of  us," 
said  Mr.  Harrison.  "It  will  be  if  we  use  each  day 
aright.  I  suppose  you  have  all  been  resolving  to  do 
better  this  year  than  last" 

"  Yes,  sir,"  came  from  some. 

"Wo  do  not  seem  to  do  any  better,"  said  Charlie 
Somers,  rather  dolefully. 

"  The  progress  we  make  in  a  year  must  depend  on  tho 
progress  we  make  each  day,  Ciiarlie."  said  Mr.  Harrison. 
"  We  are  too  apt  to  despise  the  '  to-days,'  and  rea^-h  after 
the 'to-morrows';  and  they  in  turn,  as  soon  as  they  be- 
come 'to-days,'  are  treated  no  better  than  their  prede- 
cessors. What  I  mean  is  simply  this:  we  have  faults, 
besetting  sins ;  wo.  have  a  vague  hojKi  that  some  day  in 
the  future  we  will  gain  the  victory  over  them.  Are  we 
making  any  effort  to  overcome  to-day?  If  not,  then  our 
hope  is  a  delusion.  Evil  habits  grow,  sinful  tendencies 
strengthen,  and  each  day  only  makes  it  more  difficult  to 
break  the  bands  that  fetter  and  hold  us.  I  am  sure  each 
one  of  you  who  thinks  at  all  about  the  matter  wishes  to 


44 


WALTER    IIAULKYH   CONQUMT. 


liuild  up  a  true,  good,  noble  character.  If  so,  you  must 
begin  now.  Step  by  step  wo  must  climb  upward;  and 
if  wo  do  not  take  the  first  step  to-day,  it  is  very  unlikely 
wo  will  to-morrow.     As  Longfellow  says : 

"  '  The  h«i;rlitR  by  fjroat  iiumi  rciichcil  mill  kept 
Wore  not  nttalnod  by  sudden  fliglit, 
But  they,  while  tlielr  coiiipaiiioiiB  slept. 
Were  toiling  upward  In  the  nlRht. 

•' '  All  common  thinftB,  each  day's  events. 
That  with  the  hour  heifin  and  end, 
Our  pleasure  and  our  dlseonteiils, 
Are  rounds  by  which  we  may  ascend.' " 

"  But,"  said  Ned  Brookes,  "  we  have  all  our  own 
dispositions,  and  we  cannot  alter  them." 

"More  than  we  think,  Ned,"  replied  Mr.  Harrison. 
"  For  instance,  here  is  a  miser ;  he  became  one  by  yiehl- 
ing  to  his  propensity  for  hoarding.  He  might  have  be- 
come a  generous  man  had  he  habitually  resisted  that 
propensity.  You  have  met  perhaps  unaniiable,  irritable, 
disagreeal)le  men ;  yet  perhaps  some  one  will  tell  you 
those  very  men  were  once  pleu.sant  boys,  just  such  as 
you  are.  But  they  had  faults;  they  did  not  resist  them, 
and  they  have  gradually  become  what  tiiey  are.  You 
see  a  man  whom  you  admire ;  he,  too,  had  faults,  but 
he  strove  against  them,  and  day  by  Jay  he  is  becoming 
better  and  more  Christlike.     But  some  of  you,  I  fear, 


^, 


'  ■^^'^WS  A  J'  -IMN'" 


you  must 

iinl;  and 

unlikely 


;)ur  own 

larrlson. 
l)y  yield- 
liave  be- 
ted that 
irritable, 
tell  you 
such  as 
ist  them, 
e.  You 
ults,  but 
ecoming 
;,  I  fear, 


WAT.TER    IIARI.KYS   COXQCKST. 


4ft 


have  never  taken  the  first  step  toward  forming  a  truly 
noble  cluiracter.  You  have  not  given  your  hearts  to 
Jesus.  God  calls  in  you:  'My  son,  give  mo  thine 
heart.'  'To-day  if  ye  will  iiear  his  voice  harden  not 
your  heart.'  If  you  refuse  to  listen  to  (he  call  to-day, 
what  hope  have  you  that  you  will  obey  it  to-morrow? 
Aye,  more,  you  may  never  sec  to-morrow.  Then  use 
to-day  as  God  would  have  you  use  it;  and  if  you  faith- 
fully sow  good  seed  in  the  'to-days,'  you  will  reap  a 
glorious  harvest  in  the  '  to-morrows.' "  ' 

As  the  boys  filed  out  into  the  large  room,  at  the  close 
of  the  lesson,  Mr.  Harrison  looked  after  them  sadly. 
How  many  would  act  on  his  words  ?  Some,  he  feared, 
would  go  away  as  careless  as  they  came.  The  serious, 
thoughtful  faces  of  others  siiowed  that  they  were  im- 
pressed. Would  those  impressions  prove  lasting?  He 
hoped  BO.  There  were  some,  however,  he  felt  sure,  who 
"having  received  the  word  into  honest  and  good  hearts 
would  bring  forth  fruit  with  patience." 

Of  these  last  Walter  was  one.  He  saw  plainly  now 
how  often  he  had  let  the  days  drift  by  without  seeking  to 
make  any  advancement  in  Christian  living,  and  all  the 
time  had  hoped  tha;  at  some  time,  in  some  way,  he  would 
be  what  he  wished  to  be.  He  thought  of  his  mother,  so 
unselfish,  so  patient ;  of  his  father,  so  self-controlled,  that 


'4'J!i""iii!w;'j;j» 


4i  WALTKIl    ItAIlLEY'tS   COXQURST. 

Wnlter  scarcely  roiilizcd  tliat  lio  inherited  \m  (juick  tern 
per  from  liini ;  nnd  lie  woiuiercd  if  they  hiul  iittained  to 
tiiis  tiireiigh  patient  endeavor.  To  Walter  it  Heenicd  tho 
iiioHt  natural  thiny  tiiat  they  HJioiiid  be  what  they  were, 
nnd  he  had  nlways  looked  upon  it  iw  a  nuitter  of  courac. 
Ho  resolved  to  iwk  his  mother  about  it  some  time.  The 
opjwrtunity  came  that  evening. 

Mrs.  liarley  stayed  at  home  with  tho  children  on  Sun- 
day evenings,  for  thoy  missed  her  sadly  when  she  went 
out,  and  sho  felt  that  in  those  quiet  Sabbath  evening 
hours  she  could  sow  good  seed  in  little  hearts;  sho  loved 
to  show  them  Bible  pictures  and  tell  them  Bible  stories, 
nnd  tried  to  lead  these  lambs  of  tho  home  fold  to  Jesus. 

To-night  Walter  stayed  at  home  too ;  and  when  tho 
younger  ones  had  said  good-night,  ho  told  his  motiier 
what  Mr.  Harrison  had  said,  and  then  added  : 

"  But,  mother,  does  it  not  come  natural  to  you  to  be 
always  thinking  of  others?  " 

His  mother  smiled. 

"  IMy  dear  boy,  if  you  knew  me  as  well  as  I  know  my- 
self, you  would  never  ask  such  a  question.  If  I  am  in 
your  eyes  unselfish,  it  is  not  that  I  am  by  nature  so.  I 
find  that  it  requires  daily  eflTort  to  ovorcomo  my  selfisii 
tendencies,  and  it  is  only  by  watchfulness  and  prayer 
that  I  can  gain  the  victory." 


lick  tern- 
:iuiu!(l  to 
Rinc(i  tlio 
ley  were, 
f  cuurBO. 
Qo.    The 

oil  Sun- 
slic  went 

evening 
ilic  loved 
c  stories, 
I)  Jeiius. 
riicii  the 
I  niotiier 

3u  to  be 


now  my- 
I  am  in 

re  80.  I 
ly  selfinli 
I  prayer 


WAI.TKU    HAUIJ;y'.S   CONtJIKST.  47 

"  And  fiithor  too?  "  said  Walter. 

"  Yofl ;  (uid  fiitiier  too  has  hid  Htrii<,'f,'lc3 ;  for  none  of  us 
'have  attained,  neither  are  already  perfect.'" 

"  Mother,  I  am  going  to  try  to  ovtd-conie  my  faults  " 

"  I  am  80  glad,  dear,"  said  hia  mother ;  "  and,  Walter, 
you  muHt  not  forget  to  ask  the  Saviour  to  help  you." 

"1  will,  mother."  And  the  boy  fondly  kisHcd  her 
good-night. 

Ah  I  was  not  that  mother  beginning  to  reap  after  years 
of  fuitlit   1  sowing? 


WMmi>;ji;is  'i,',vi> 


CHAPTER  V. 


SCHOOL   DAYS. 

MONDAY  came,  and  with  it  the  return  of  school  days. 
Scliool  began  at  half-past  nine,  and  Walter  was 
early  that  morning.  The  town  lock  was  just  striking 
nine  when  he  mounted  the  broad  stone  steps  leading  to 
the  academy.  Just  before  him  was  a  little  lad,  who  was 
evidently  a  uew  scholar.  He  carried  a  scliool  bag  well 
filled  with  books,  and  stood  there  in  the  large  hall,  look- 
ing doubtfully  about  him,  ao  though  he  did  not  know 
which  room  to  enter. 

"  Which  ia  Mr.  Harrison's  room?  "  he  asked,  as  Walter 
entered. 

"  In  this  way."  And  Walter  threw  open  a  door,  and 
they  both  entered  a  large,  pleasant  schoolroom.  "  Tiiere 
is  Mr.  Harrison  sitting  at  his  desk,"  said  Walter. 

The  new  boy  went  up  and  handed  in  his  permit,  and 
Mr.  Harrison  had  soon  entered  his  name  on  the  register. 

"  You  may  take  this  seat,"  he  said,  pointing  put  one 
not  fiir  from  where  Walter  was  arranging  his  books. 

"Walter  Harley,  this  is  Bennie  Harris.     You  must 
make  him  feel  at  home,"  he  added ;  "  he  will  be  in  the 
48 


ihool  days, 
/^altcr  was 
5t  striking 
Icrading  to 
i,  who  was 
rl  bag  well 
hall,  look- 
not  know 

as  Walter 

,  door,  and 
1.  "  There 
ter. 

)errait,  and 
he  register. 
ng  put  one 
books. 
You  must 
1  be  in  the 


Walter  Harley'i  Conquest.        ^^^^^  ^^ 


'"""  mS^ 


WALTER    HARLEY'8  CONQUEST, 


# 


same  class  with  you.  You  can  show  him  where  to  hang  hia 
coat  and  cap."' 

While  Bennie  hung  up  overcoat  and  cap,  Walter 
leaned  back  against  the  window,  and  silently  surveyed 
the  new  comer.  Bennie  was  thirteen,  but  small  for  his 
age,  and  slightly  built.  Dark  brown  hair  fell  in  waves 
over  a  l)road  forehead ;  his  eyes  were  very  dark  blue,  and 
had  a  pentive  look  just  now,  as  indeed  they  always  had 
when  he  was  quiet ;  but,  aa  Walter  afterward  found,  they 
could  be  brimful  of  fun  and  mischief  at  times.  Almost 
a  girlish  look  rested  on  the  delicately-formed  features. 
He  was  very  neatly  dressed ;  but  Walter  instinctively 
guessed  that  the  suit  he  had  on  was  the  best  one  he  had, 
and  that  some  one  had  taken  great  pains  to  make  him 
look  as  well  as  possible  on  this  his  first  day  at  a  new 
school. 

Walter  suddenly  recollected  that  he  ought  to  make 
himself  agreeable  to  the  new  scholar ;  so,  when  they  ;  «- 
turned  to  the  schoolroom,  he  sat  down  by  him,  and  soon 
learned  that  his  father  was  dead,  and  that  his  mother  had 
lately  come  to  live  in  Knowlton. 

"  I  am  the  eldest,  and  must  get  through  my  schooling 
as  soon  as  I  can,  so  as  to  be  ready  to  go  to  work.  That 
is  r/hy  Mr.  Harrison  put  me  into  this  class.  I  am  away 
behind  you  all,  but  I'll  soon  work  up  to  you." 


imums&i'^ 


^^'^■t— <!■>  ll^P^f-t^^M 


'  '".I   f'".") ".'  I  ..  J         M 


fiO  WALTER    IIAULEY's   COXQUEST. 

"  He  is  a  pluckly  little  chap,"  tliout^lit  Walter,  and  he 
said :  "  If  you  want  any  help,  just  come  to  me." 

" Thank  you,  I  shall.'  And  Bennie  evidently  scorned 
to  fed  that  he  had  found  a  friend.  Then  the  bell  ransr. 
and  all  took  their  places. 

There  were  many  glances  directed  toward  the  new 
boy,  and  many  mentally  took  his  measure.  His  school- 
mates soon  found  out  tiiat  he  was  a  brave,  manly  little 
fellow,  and  the  general  verdict  was  that  "  he  would  do." 
It  is  true  one  tall  young  fellow,  who  was  a  regular  fop, 
and  thought  more  of  style  and  dress  than  anything  else, 
sneeringly  remarked,  in  a  tone  quite  loud  enough  for 
Bennie  to  hear :  "  I  wonder  if  a  New  York  tailor  made 
that  suit." 

"  Come,  Lansing ;  no  more  of  that  when  I  am  around,'' 
said  Walter,  quickly. 

And  Lansing,  who  saw  a  dangerous  flash  in  Walter's 
eyes,  and  did  not  care  to  provoke  his  wrath,  turned  away 
carelessly,  saying  with  as  much  scorn  as  he  dared : 

"Oh,  I  didn't  know  he  was  a  friend  of  Walter 
Harley." 

"  You  know  now,"  retorted  Walter.  And  to  say  the 
truth,  he  felt  very  much  drawn  toward  the  little  lad  who 
was  working  so  bravely  for  his  mother. 

Hitherto  Walter  had  kept  all  his  resolutions,  and,  for- 


r,  and  he 

y  seemed 
ell  rang, 

the  new 
is  school- 
nly  little 
.uld  do." 
iilar  fop, 
ling  else, 
ough  for 
lor  made 

around," 

Walter's 
led  away 
1:      ■> 
Walter 

say  the 
lad  who 

and,  for- 


1 


WALTER    HAULEY's  CONQUEST. 


dl 


getting  how  little  he  had  been  tempted  to  break  th?m, 
began  to  think  very  well  of  himself;  and  na  he  made 
entries  in  his  diary  of  what  he  had  done,  he  felt  quite 
compliicont.  But  tlicre  came  a  day  not  very  long  after 
this  when  his  self-conceit  wiis  sadly  taken  out  of  him. 
He  began  this  unfortunate  day  by  lying  in  bed  so  long 
that  he  was  late  for  breakfast,  which  called  forth  a 
rebuke  from  his  father,  who  very  much  disliked  unpunc- 
tuality.  Then,  when  it  was  time  to  start  for  school,  he 
could  not  find  his  mittens.  He  laid  the  blame  on  Bertha, 
who  was  a  mischievous  little  puss,  and  scolded  her  until 
she  began  to  cry;  then  he  found  them  just  where  he  had 
thrown  them  down  the  evening  before.  He  went  off  in  a 
very  unamiable  mood,  and  reached  school  just  after  roll 
call.    This  did  not  improve  his  temper. 

When  recess  came  he  quarreled  with  Ned  Brookes 
about  some  trifling  matter.  Ned  was  tantalizingly  cool 
and  provoking,  while  Walter  was  so  angry  that  he 
scarcely  knew  or  cared  what  he  said.-  They  almost  came 
to  blows,  when  Mr.  Harrison  appeared  and  ordered  them 
both  in,  with  a  look  of  grave  displeasure.  As  they  left 
the  school  at  noon,  Ned,  who  was  inclined  to  have  the 
quarrel  out,  said,  sueeringly : 

"I  wonder  what  Mr.  Harrison  will  think  of  his 
favorite  now." 


fflr  WALTER    HARI.E\'S  COXQUKST. 

Walter,  stung  by  tlic  taunt,  turned  on  him  fiercely, 
and  what  would  have  been  the  end  it  is  difficult  to  say, 
had  not  Charlie  Soniers,  who  was  inclined  to  act  the 
peacemaker,  struck  iu  with,  "Come  now,  Ned;  enough 
of  that,"  and  drew  him  off  anotiier  way. 

Walter  had  brought  no  lunch  that  day,  intending  to 
dine  at  his  uncle's,  but  he  could  not  think  of  going  now, 
he  felt  so  miserable  and  disgusted  with  himself;  so  he 
bought  a  few  cakes  with  some  change  he  had  in  his 
pocket,  after  eating  wiiich  he  began  to  recover  his  spirits. 
Then  he  began  to  justify  himself  by  throwing  the  burden 
of  his  misdoings  as  much  as  possible  on  others,  and  tried 
to  quiet  conscience  by  resolving  to  do  better  in  the  after- 
noon. But,  alas  for  good  resolves !  the  first  hour  was 
spent  with  Mr.  Harrison ;  the  sight  of  him  recalled  the 
morning's  events.  Walter  felt  really  imnoyed  that  his 
teacher  should  have  seen  him  lose  his  temper,  and  he  felt 
vexed  with  him  because  he  had,  us  he  thought,  inter- 
fered. So  he  paid  as  little  attention  to  the  lesson  as  he 
possibly  could  without  calling  forth  open  rebuke. 

The  second  hour  was  spent  w>.th  one  of  the  assistant 
teachers,  Mr.  Grant ;  and  Walter  had  no  sooner  entered 
the  room  than  he  felt  possessed  with  a  spirit  of  mischief 
The  other  boys  were  ready  enough  for  fun,  and  Mr. 
Grant  was  fairly  distracted  with  their  antics.    Although 


■  V  fi  iifii  I'i'j'nV' 


'.VALTEB    HARLEY's   CON'QDSST, 


53 


fiercely, 
It  to  say, 

act  the 
;  enough 

iiding  to 
ing  now, 
f;  so  he 
i  in  his 
is  spirits. 
e  burden 
nd  tried 
he  after- 
lour  waa 
illed  the 
that  his 
d  he  felt 
lit,  inter- 
on  as  he 

assistant 
r  entered 
mischief, 
and  Mr. 
Uthough 


the  poor  man  never  had  very  good  ordor  in  his  room,  he 
certainly  felt  more  than  usually  discouraged  this  after- 
noon, and  had  it  been  near  the  end  of  the  term  would 
have  sent  in  his  resignation. 

At  the  close  of  school,  Walter  threw  on  his  coat  and 
cap,  and  was  out  ahead  of  all  of  his  schoolmates,  for  he 
felt  little  inclined  for  company.  When  he  reached 
home,  he  went  straight  to  his  room,  closed  and  locked 
the  door,  and  slammed  down  his  books  on  his  desk. 
Taking  up  a  magazine,  he  threw  himself  down  in  a  chair 
by  the  window,  and  began  to  look  over  the  contents,  but 
somehow  he  did  not  find  it  as  interesting  as  usual ;  sc, 
tossing  it  aside,  he  opened  his  geography,  and  tried  to 
study  the  lesson  for  the  next  day.  But  he  could  not  fix 
his  mind  upon  it,  and  soon  closed  the  book;  then  he 
leaned  his  head  on  his  hands,  and  began  to  think. 

What  a  miserable  failure  he  had  made  of  that  day ! 
Conscience  spoke  out  loudly,  and  Walter  felt  that  he  had 
no  excuse  to  make.  Then  a  feeling  of  discouragement 
stole  over  him ;  the  tempter  whispered :  "  It  is  no  use  for 
you  to  try  any  more;  you  see  you  cannot  do  right." 
And  half  aloud,  Walter  said  :  "  Shall  T  always  yield  to 
temptation  ?  " 

Some  one  was  singing  down  stairs,  and  the  words  came 
floating  up : 


# 


fti  WALTER    IIARLEY's   CONQUEST. 

"  Ask  the  Saviour  to  help  you, 
Comfort,  BtreiiKthcn,  ami  keep  you  ; 
Ho  Ib  willing  to  all!  you, 
rio  will  carry  you  through." 

Tlie  words  came  like  a  licivvenly  message  to  the  dis- 
couraged boy.  Ail !  tliat  was  the  tr()ul)le :  lie  had  for- 
gotten to  nsk  the  Saviour  to  help  him ;  he  had  trusted  in 
himself,  and  how  soon  he  had  been  overcome ! 

Anew  Walter  sought  the  throne  of  grace  for  forgive- 
ness and  help ;  nor  sought  he  in  vain,  for  a  peace  and  rest 
very  unlike  his  former  confidence  stole  into  his  heart,  and 
it  was  with  a  cheerful  air  that  he  went  to  make  friends 
with  little  Bertha,  and  carry  her  round  on  his  shoulder. 


I, 


: 


II. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


)  the  (lis- 

Imd  for- 

trustcd  in 

r  forgive- 
3  and  rest 
icart,  and 
:e  friends 
boulder. 


:: 


BENNIE   HAUUI8. 

11VER  since  Walter's  thoughts  had  hcen  directed  to 
J  helping  others,  he  had  been  on  the  lookout  for 
little  opportunities  of  usefulness.  So  wlicn  one  day, 
about  a  week  after  the  events  recorded  in  tlio  preceding 
chapter,  he  found  Bennie,  witli  knit  brows,  poring  over 
some  difficult  exanii)les  in  aritlnnetic,  b.e  offered  to  go 
home  with  him  after  school,  and  show  him  how  to  do 
them.  Bennie  readily  accejjted  the  offer.  So,  as  soon  as 
the  afternoon  session  was  over,  they  started  off  in  the  di- 
rection of  Bennie's  home.  After  walking  some  distance, 
they  turned  into  a  lane  in  the  outskirts  of  the  town.  On 
either  side  were  small  cottages,  built  at  irregular  inter- 
vals. Some  of  them  were  new ;  others  quite  old,  and 
very  much  in  need  of  paint.  Before  one  of  the  latter 
Bennie  stopped. 

"  This  is  our  house,"  he  said,  with  as  nmch  satisfaction 
as  if  he  had  been  introducing  Walter  to  a  palace.  "  Was 
it  not  r-tunate,"  he  continued,  as  they  passed  through 
the  gateway  and  up  the  path  to  the  door,  "  that  mother 

found  a  house  out  of  the  town  ?  We  shall  have  a  garden 

6t 


IJ 
3i' 


66  WAI/I'KR    irAIlMOY's   COXqUKST. 

in  mimmei',  you  8eo.  Having  hccii  used  to  living  in  the 
country,  I  do  not  i<no\v  what  we  .should  Imvo  done  if  wo 
had  bcou  cooped  up  in  ^onio  little  place  in  the  toirn." 

Walter  could  not  help  inwardly  wondering  wliether  he 
would  consider  hiiuseU'  fortunate  if  culled  on  to  live  in  a 
house  like  tliis. 

But  now  they  were  in  the  little  sitting  room.  It  looked 
very  cheerful,  with  the  rays  of  the  setting  sun  streaming 
in  ;  and  tliere  were  bright  touches  of  color  in  tiie  large 
home-made  tnate  tii  l  partly  hid  the  worn  carpet,  in  the 
red  table  cloth  that  covered  the  centre  table,  and  in  tiie 
really  pretty  chromos  that  hung  on  the  wall,  giving  thu 
room  IV  honieliko  look. 

A  sweet-faced  woman  sat  sewing  by  the  window. 
Walter  knew  at  a  glance  that  she  was  Ikiinjie's  mother. 
She  hud  the  same  dark  blue  eyes,  with  the  same  pensive 
expression.  When  she  spoke,  her  voice  was  very  gentle, 
and  there  was  a  quiet  dignity  and  an  air  of  refinement 
about  her  which  told  of  better  days. 

The  two  boys  sat  down,  and  were  soon  busy  over  their 
ciphering.  It  must  be  confessed,  Walter's  cx[)lanations 
were  somewhat  confused,  ilc  was  quick  to  see  how  a 
thing  could  be  ione,  and  seldom  troubled  himself  about 
the  whys  and  >vherefores,  and  so  found  it  more  difficult 
than  he  had  imagined  to  give  clear  reasons  for  all  he  did. 


♦, 


n<r  in  tlio 
Olio  if  wo 

tDWIl," 

iietluir  lie 
'  livu  in  a 

It  looitcd 
streainiiif^ 
the  liirgo 
let,  in  the 
11(1  in  the 
:iviiijj  the 

window. 
i  niotlier. 
0  peuoive 
ry  gentle, 
efiuenient 

jver  tlieir 
)lan!itions 
;e  how  a 
elf  about 
i  difficult 
ill  he  did. 


WALTER    n.VUI<EY8   CONQUEST. 


57 


Bonnie,  on  the  other  hand,  inust  hoo  eaeh  atop  olearly  be- 
fore he  could  go  on  to  the  next.  So  they  had  to  refer  to 
the  explanations  given  in  the  book ;  and  altogether 
Walter  reciived  aa  much  beneflt  from  the  exercirfo  a« 
nennie  did.  They  had  worked  out  all  the  hardest  of  the 
examples  when  u  little  cry  of  " mamma"  came  from  the 
adjoining  room. 

"  What!  hasKobbie  been  asleej)  ail  this  time,  mother?" 
said  Bon.  "  I  had  forgotten  nil  about  him.  I'll  go  and 
get  him."  And  he  quickly  disappeared  into,  the  other 
room,  soon  returning  with  little  two-year  old  Robbie,  the 
baby  and  pot  of  the  family. 

Very  pretty  the  little  fellow  looked,  his  cheeks  flushed 
from  slooi),  and  his  brown  curls  tossed  about  bis  face, 
while  he  still  rubbed  his  eyes  vigorously  with  one  chubby 
hand.  Bennie  handled  him  in  a  way  that  showed  ho  had 
experience  in  that  line ;  and,  after  considerable  letting 
and  coaxing,  induced  him  to  make  friends  with  Walter, 
and  shake  hands  and  say,  "  How  do  you  do  ?  " 

"  Now,  Robbie,  sing  for  brother."  And  after  a  while 
the  little  fellow  quavered  out  a  bar  or  two  of  a  familiar 
air,  and  then  hid  his  face  bashfully  on  his  brother's 
shoulder. 

"  That  is  first  rate,"  said  Walter.  "  You  will  make  a 
singer." 


-iU. 


M 


WAI/rKK    IIAUI.KY'w   CONQITKHT. 


"Oil,  yi>u  coiilil  do  ln'ttiT  tliaii  that,  lml)y,"  miid  Ikiuiio. 
IJiit  Uubltio  coiilil  not  l)e  iK!r.suiidt'd  to  try  u;,'iiiii,  and 
Ui-nnic  had  to  give  up. 

"  You  were  goinj;  to  show  mo  tho  ship  your  uncle 
made,"  said  Walter. 

"  Y*^";  will  you  come  up  to  my  room  ?  "  And  Bennio 
led  tliu  way  nj)  a  narrow,  dark  staircase  into  his  bed- 
room. 

It  looked  so  hare  to  Walter,  as  ho  mentally  contrasted 
it  with  his  own  w- U-furnished  room.  There  was  no 
carjict  on  the  floor.  The  furniture  consisted  of  a  bed, 
covered  with  a  patchwork  quilt,  one  chair,  a  large  chest 
and  a  washstand,  with  a  small  looking  glass  hanging 
over  it.  On  a  shelf  on  one  side  of  the  room  was  the  toy 
ship,  and  some  other  boyish  treasures.  Beniiie  took  down 
the  little  craft,  which  was  an  excellent  model  of  a  sailing 
vessel,  and  Walter  examined  it  with  much  interest ;  for 
he  had  often  tried  his  own  hand  at  making  toy  boats, 
and  he  knew  enough  about  them  to  appreciate  the  good 
points. 

"I  wish  I  could  make  a  ship  like  that,"  he  said,  as 
Bennie  replaced  it  carefully  on  the  shelf 

"It  aever  seemed  anything  to  Uncle  Joe  to  make  them. 
He  \.'ou!d  sit  working  away  at  them  in  the  evenings,  and 
tolling  us  long  stories  about  the  foreign  countries  he  had 


WAI.TKU    IIAUI.KY's   CONtJUKsT. 


CO 


(1  Bcnnio. 
^'uiii,  and 

jur  uncle 

(1  Beiinio 
I  hid  bcd- 

'oiitrn.«t('rl 
I  was  no 
[)f  a  1)0(1, 
rj,'o  chest 
hanging 
s  tiie  toy 
)ok  down 
n  sailing 
!rest;  for 
jy  boats, 
the  good 

e  said,  as 

ke  them. 
ings,  and 
B  he  had 


toon.  I  must  hIiow  you  the  curiosities  ho  brought  us. 
Whenever  he  came  home  from  u  long  voyage  he  would 
bring  hh  iot.i  of  (lucer  tilings  that  he  had  picked  u|>  in 
ditl'erent  iilaces.  Once  he  brought  me  a  beautiful  bird; 
but  it  did  not  live  long.  I  Buppoae  our  climate  did  not 
suit  it." 

They  went  down  into  the  little  sitting  room  again. 
There  was  no  one  there  now. 

"  We  shall  have  a  good  chance  to  look  at  the  things 
while  Robbie  is  out  of  the  way."  And  Bonnie  opened  a 
little  closet,  and  brought  out  curiously  shaped  shells,  and 
branching  coral,  and  a  hideous  idol,  and  a  tiny  shoe  of  a 
Chinese  woman,  and  many  other  odd  things.  The  two 
boys  looked  at  them  and  talked  about  them  for  some 
time.  Then,  while  Bennie  put  them  away,  Walter  turned 
to  look  at  some  framed  photographs  on  the  mantel. 

"  Is  this  your  father  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Yes,  that  is  father.  It  was  a  very  good  picture  of 
him  when  it  was  taken  ;  and  that,'  as  Walter  passed  on 
to  another,  "  is  Uncle  Joe  ;  and  that  one  is  mother." 

"  Is  that  your  mother  ?  "  exclaimed  Walter.  It  was  a 
pretty,  bright,  girlish-looking  face. 

"  Yes,"  said  Bennie,  "  that  is  mother.  I  can  remem- 
ber when  she  looked  like  that ;  but  she  grew  so  pale  and 
thin  when  father  was  ill  so  long."     The  little  boy  spoke 


ri 


n 


60 


WALTER    HARLEY's   CONQUEST. 


sadly,  and  in  a  low  tone ;  then  after  a  moment's  pause,  he 
added,  cheerfully,  «  But  she  will  look  as  well  as  that  some 
day,  when  I  grow  to  be  a  man,  and  can  make  things  easy 
for  her.  I  am  ever  so  much  obliged  to  you  for  showing 
me  how  to  do  those  sums.  I  thiuk  I  am  getting  on 
nicely  now,  and  Mr.  Harrison  encourages  me  so.  I 
like  him  ever  so  much;  he  makes  tie  lessons  so  in- 
terestiug." 

"He  does  that  everywhere,"  said  Walter;  "heiijust 
the  same  in  Sunday-school." 

"Oh,  is  he  your  teacher  on  Sunday  too?  How  I 
should  like  to  be  in  his  class." 

"  Do  you  not  go  to  any  Sunday-school  ?  " 

"No;  I  have  not  gone  to  the  Sunday-school  of  the 
church  which  we  attend,  because  I  do  not  know  any  one 
there,  and  I  do  not  like  to  go  in  where  I  am  a  perfect 
stranger." 

"  Come  to  our  school,  then,  and  go  in  Mr.  Harrison's 
class.    I'll  call  for  you  next  Sunday,  if  you  like." 

"  I  would  like  to  go  very  much."  And  Bennie's  face 
brightened.  "I  used  to  go  to  Sunday-school  at  home 
whenever  there  was  one,  and  it  seems  lonesome  Sunday 
afternoons  without  it.  I  will  go  if  mothe.  :.  willing,  and 
most  likely  she  will  be." 
"AH  right.     Twill  call  for  you  at  two  o'clock  next 


I 


AVALTKR    HARLEYS   CONQUEST. 


01 


8  pause,  he 
i  that  some 
hings  easy 
)r  showhig 
jetting  on 
me  so.  I 
)ns  so  in- 

he  h  just 

How  I 


lol  of  the 
'  any  one 
a  perfect 

Harrison's 

lie's  face 

at  home 

Sunday 

ing,  and 

ck  next 


I 


Sunday.''  And  Walter  started  for  home,  well  pleased  to 
have  gained  another  Sunday-school  scliolar. 

Sunday  proved  .torniy.  When  Walter  tald  them  at 
the  dinner  table  at  Uncle  Morton's  about  calling  for 
Bennie,  Mrs.  Morton  said  : 

"  Not  a  very  favorable  day,  is  it  ?  Do  you  think  it 
worth  while  to  go,  Walter  ?  " 

"  I  said  I  would,'"  replied  Walter,  "  and  I  shall  do  my 
part.  If  he  does  not  want  to  come,  he  need  not.  I  know 
he  would  not  stay  at  liome  from  day  school,  and  I  do  not 
see  why  he  should  make  Sunday  an  exception  ;  anyway, 
I  am  going." 

"  That  is  right,  my  bov,"  said  his  uncle,  "  always  keep 
your  word." 

So  Walter  set  out,  and  after  trudging  all  the  way 
through  drifting,  whirling  snow,  was  rewarded  by  find- 
ing Bennie  ready  and  waiting  for  him  ;  and  Mr.  Harri- 
son was  cheered  by  having  an  addition  to  his  class  on 
such  a  stormy  day. 

"  There  will  be  special  collections  for  church  purposes 
next  Sunday,"  said  Walter,  at  the  breakfast  table,  the 
following  morning  ;  "  and  Mr.  Harrison  wants  us  to  take 
one  up  in  our  Sunday-school  class.  Each  one  is  to  bring 
all  he  can,  and  it  must  be  our  own  money.  So  provok- 
ing :  I  wish  it  was  any  Sunday  but  next  Sunday." 


■.:'■  WALTER    barley's   COXQUKST. 

"  Why  so  ?  "  said  his  mother. 

"  Because  I  have  uot  anything  to  give  until  I  get  my 
next  allowance." 

"  How  does  it  happen  that  you  have  nothing  ? "  said 
his  father. 

Walter  colored.  "  The  bill  for  that  little  work  table 
I  gave  mother  at  Christmas  came  in  this  month.  I 
couldn't  pay  it  before,"  he  added,  apologetically,  "  be- 
cause Mr.  Hawkins  did  not  know  just  what  it  would 
come  to  until  he  made  it."  Walter  knew  his  father 
objected  to  his  running  a  bill. 

"  It  is  evident  that  you  couldn't  have  paid  for  it  if  he 
had,"  returned  his  father.  "  Oh,  Walter,  when  will  you 
learn  to  spend  your  allowance  carefully,  so  tiiat  one 
month  will  not  encroach  on  the  next  ?  " 

"  I  do  try,  father,  but  it  goes  before  I  think." 
"  You  are  just  such  another  as  I  was.  I  found  it  very 
difficult  in  my  earlier  days  to  live  within  my  income, 
and  if  I  had  not  learned  long  before  this,  I  would  not 
have  been  as  prosperous  as  I  am.  However,  about  the 
collection  next  Sunday,  if  you  like  to  come  to  the  office 
after  school  and  do  some  writing  for  me,  you  can  earn 
enough  to  have  something  to  give." 

"  All  right,  father,  I  will,"  said  Walter.     And  he  went 
to  school  quite  in  good  spirits,   Walter  waa  naturally  gen- 


< 


<m 


-Jl 


il  I  get  my 

ng  ?  "  said 

ivork  table 
tnonth.  I 
ally,  "  he- 
it  would 
Ills  father 

)!•  it  if  he 
1  will  you 
tliat  one 


id  it  very 
'f  income, 
TOuld  not 
ibout  the 
the  office 
can  earn 

he  went 
ally  gen- 


\ 


J 


WALTER    HARLEY's   CONQUEST. 


63 


erous,  and  he  did  not  always  stop  to  think  what  he  could 
afford ;  so,  although  he  had  a  liberal  allowance,  he  was 
almost  always  penniless  before  the  end  of  the  month. 
He  then  would  come  to  his  indulgent  father  for  an 
advance  on  next  month's  allowance.  Mr.  Harley  soon 
perceived,  however,  that  that  would  not  bo  the  best  thing 
for  Walter ;  so  he  had  told  him  a  month  or  two  before 
that  in  future  he  could  not  do  it. 

"Walter  worked  with  a  will  through  the  week,  and 
never  had  felt  more  satisfaction  in  giving.  Each  of  the 
boys  had  made  some  effort  to  bring  a  contribution,  and 
the  result  was  that  Mr.  Harrison  handed  in  ten  dollars 
to  the  church  treasury. 

After  the  close  of  the  school,  Walter  crossed  over  to 
Lina,  who  was  talking  to  Adeline  Harrington.  Adeline 
looked  very  pretty,  as  she  stood  fastening  her  fur  collar- 
ette.    Just  then  Mr.  Harrison  came  up. 

"  Your  class  was  the  banner  class  to-day,  Mr.  Harri- 
son," said  Ada. 

"  My  boys  did  nobly,"  he  returned,  with  a  pleasant 
smile  and  a  glance  at  Walter. 

"  I  wish  I  could  prevail  on  my  class  to  do  as  well. 
You  must  tell  me  the  secret  of  your  success."  And  they 
passed  on  out  of  the  room  together,  Walter  and  Lina 
following. 


64 


WALTER    IIAIILEV'S   CONQUEST. 


Walter's  gaze  rested  on  Adeline  as  she  tripped  f'ong 
before  them,  and  he  thouglit  Lin  a  would  look  just  as 
pretty  if  she  were  only  dressed  as  handsomely.  With 
this  thought  in  his  mind,  his  first  remark  was  not  very 
suitable  for  the  Sabbath  : 

"  Lina,  I  thought  you  were  going  to  buy  a  set  of  furs 
this  winter." 

"  I  changed  my  mind,"  rej-iied  Lina.  "  I  thought  I 
could  do  without  them,  and  the  money  might  be  better 
used  some  other  way." 

"  A  set  like  those  Adeline  has  would  be  very  becoming 
to  you,  Lina." 

"I  dare  say;  but  then,  you  know,  I  cannot  affoi  1  to 
dress  like  Ada  Harrington."  And  Lina  said  "it  so 
bravely  that  Walter  felt  satisfied  she  did  not  care  for 
dress  at  all. 

"I  am  so  glad  the  collection  this  afternoon  wne  so 
large,"  said  Lina,  determined  to  change  the  subject. 
"  You  must  all  be  pleased  with  the  result  in  your  class. 
Most  of  my  scholars  are  very  poor,  but  the  little  sums 
they  brought  had  all  been  earned  in  different  ways,  and 
it  was  quite  touching  to  hear  them  tell  what  they  did  in 
orJov  to  have  a  few  cents  to  bring."  And  then  Lina 
began  to  talk  about  some  of  her  little  scholars,  m  whom 
she  Wis  sper:klly  interested.    She  was  a  fivithft  1  teacher, 


' 


miS^SS 


.WlBllii' 


Stesummmf^^rim 


i 


)ped  •''ong 
)k  just  aa 
ly.  With 
3  not  very 

let  of  furs 

;liought  I 
be  better 

becoming 

affoi  i  to 

lid  it   so 

care  for 

X  wne  so 
subject, 
ur  class, 
tie  sums 
ays,  and 
y  did  in 
en  Lina 
n  whom 
teacher, 


I 


J' 


[ 


L 


WALTKR   HARLEY'S   CONQUEST. 


65 


visiting  the  girls  ia  her  class  regularly,  thus  becoming 
acquainted  with  t'leni  in  their  homes,  and  taking  a  deep 
interest  in  everytlung  that  concerned  them. 

A  few  days  after  this,  Walter  was  sj^ending  the  even- 
ing with  Charlie  and  Arthur  Somers.  In  the  course  of 
the  evening,  Mr.  Pierce,  the  treasurer  of  the  church, 
came  in.  The  conversation  turned  on  the  anniversary 
collections. 

"By  the  way,"  said  Mr,  Pierce,  "we  found  twenty 
dollars  in  one  envelope,  without  any  name — simply  a 
text.  I  do  not  know  whetlier  any  of  you  would  recog- 
nize the  writing." 

"  Why,  tiiat  is  Lina'e  writing  I "  said  Walter,  as  soon  as 
he  saw  it. 

•  Sh3  has  given  more  than  many  who  are  better 
able,"  said  Mrs.  Somers. 

The  conversation  of  Sunday  flashed  across  Walter's 
mind.  "That  must  be  the  reason  she  did  not  get  the 
furs,"  he  thought.  Aloud  he  said :  "  It  is  noble ;  for  I 
know  she  could  not  give  that  much  without  making  some 
self-denial." 

■'  I  am  sure  of  it,"  said  Mrs.  Somers. 

Walter  resolved  to  find  out  from  Lina  herself  whether 
his  surmise  was  correct.  So  the  next  day  wlien  she  came 
as  usual  to  give  him  his  music  lesson,  he  said :  "  Lina,  was 


ni 


68 


WALTER   barley's  CONQUEST. 


that  twenty  dollars  that  you  gave  on  Sunday  what  you 
had  laid  by  for  furs?" 

"  Why,  how  do  you  know  what  I  gave?  "  And  Lina 
blushed  as  though  she  had  been  found  out  in  some 
wrong-doing. 

"  Oh,  a  little  bird  told  me ;  but  is  that  why  you  did 
not  get  the  furs  ?  " 

"  Partly,"  said  Lina.  "  The  flrst  idea  of  giving  them 
up  came  to  me  when  mother  said  she  could  not  afford  a 
new  dress  this  winter,  I  felt  she  really  needed  a  new 
dress  more  than  I  did  the  furs,  so  I  took  part  of  the 
money  for  that.  Then  this  special  collection  was  spoken 
of,  and  I  was  so  tjlad  to  be  able  to  give  when  there  was 
80  much  need." 

"  Lina,  what  a  good,  self-denying  girl  you  are  I " 

"  Why,  Walter,  it  was  no  self-denial  after  I  once  made 
up  my  mind  to  do  it ;  it  was  only  a  pleasure."  And  her 
face  lighted  up  with  a  bright  smile. 

But  when  Walter  told  his  mother  about  it  that  even- 
ing, he  said :  "  It  did  make  me  feel  so  small." 


^ 


, 


SMiiMlMi  JgBMuTiiliairf  iu' j-jimr  JSgMWwarniiliiir  jITimnnWM 


frh&t  you 

Liid  Lina 
in  some 

you  did 

ng  them 
afford  a 
i  a  new 
t  of  tho 
s  spoiicn 
liere  was 

I" 

ce  made 

A-nd  her. 

'•         * 
at  cven- 


» 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Tnr  WRITTEN    EXAMINATION  AND  WHAT    CAME   OF  IT. 

IT  was  one  day  towai'd  the  end  of  the  month.  Lina 
was  spending  tlie  day  at  Elmwood,  and  she  and 
Mrs.  Harley  wen  sitting  in  the  library  sewing,  when 
Walter  burst  into  ihe  room  with  a  clouded  brow. 

"  What  is  the  matter,  Walter  ?  "  said  his  mother,  who 
saw  at  a  glance  that  something  had  gone  wrong. 

"  Why,  you  know,  it  is  written  examination  to-day, 
and,  of  course,  I  had  prepared  carefully  for  Mr.  Harri- 
son's papers,  but  I  did  not  pay  so  much  attention  to 
natural  philosophy — in  fact,  none  of  us  did ;  for  Mr. 
Grant  had  taught  us  so  little  we  thought  he  would  be 
ca.sy  on  us.  Well,  you  never  saw  such  a  paper ;  it  was 
fearfully  hard,  and  he  sat  there  looking  so  pleased  to 
think  he  had  caught  us  so  nicely.  I  would  not  mind, 
only  every  boy  irn  the  class,  except  Bennie  Harris  and 
Cliarlie  luid  Arthur  Somers  and  myself,  copied  the 
answers  right  off  his  book." 

"  Did  not  Mr.  Grant  see  ?  "  said  Lina. 

"See?  no;  what  does  he  ever  see?    Well,  I  suppose  I 

shall  make  about  fifty.    That  is  a|l  right ;  I  do  not  deserve 

«7 


■^ 


9$ 


WALTER    HARLEY's   CONQUJvSl'. 


more.  But  the  other  fcllowd  will  be  u})  in  the  nineties, 
and  that  is  the  jirovoking  i)art  of  it,  when  they  didn't 
even  l<now  as  niueh  al)out  tiie  subject  as  I  did.  I  don't 
believe  it  pays  to  do  right,'  he  added,  disconsolately. 

"I  know  you  do  not  really  think  that,"  said  his 
mother.  "  You  would  ratiier,  I  am  sure,  take  a  low  place 
on  the  list  than  bo  one  of  the  boys  who  cheated,  however 
high  you  might  stand." 

"  Yes,"  said  Walter,"  but  it  ia  so  provoking.  I  had  a 
hard  struggle  to  resist  the  teinptation  to  look." 

"  A  good  test  of  your  princi2:)les,"  said  Lina. 

AValter  did  not  e.xhil)it  his  usual  impatience  to  hear 
the  result  of  the  examinations.  It  was  therefore  iome- 
what  of  a  suri)rise  to  his  mother  when,  two  days  after 
the  above  conversation,  he  came  home  at  noon  in  great 
glee. 

"  Hurrah ! "  he  said,  tossing  up  his  cap  to  the  ceiling, 
"  I  lead  the  class  in  natural  philosopliy." 

"  Why,  how  does  that  happen? '"  said  his  mother. 

"Well,  when  we  went  into  Mr.  Grant's  room  this 
morning,  he  said,  in  his  dry  way,  'I  suppose  you  would 
like  to  hear  what  your  marks  are,  boys.'  I  am  sure  I 
did  not  for  one.  However,  he  read  out '  Walter  Harley, 
sixty-six.'  That  was  much  better  than  I  expected.  Then 
came    Charlie    Somers,    Bennie    Harris,    and    Arthur 


-•h^^mSSM 


3  nineties, 
icy  didn't 
I  don't 
ately. 
said  liis 
low  place 
,  however 

I  had  a 


!e  to  hear 
ore  ,30ine- 
lays  after 
I  in  great 

e  ceiling, 

her. 

•oom  this 
'■ou  would 
in  sure  I 
r  Harley, 
3d.  Then 
I    Arthur 


V 


k 


WALTKU    IIAKM'.y'.S   CONQUEST, 


69 


Somcrs.  Then  he  laid  down  the  paper.  'As  to  the 
rest  of  you,'  he  said,  '  I  was  not  able  to  mark  your 
papers  at  all,  for  as  you  c()i)ied  the  answers  from  your 
booi<n,  it  was  no  test  of  your  knowledge.'  You  never 
saw  such  a  siicepish-looking  lot  of  boys.  ""  never  wouUI 
liave  thought  of  Mr.  Grunt  aa  being  up  i  su  a  clever 
dodge  as  that." 

Tliut  afternoon  Mr.  Harrison  aake'  "la-  a.  to  remain 
for  a  few  moments  after  the  close  of  the   .  iion. 

"  You  are  in  for  it  now,  Ned,"  .n'  \  one  of  Class  B,  aa 
he  passed  Ned  Brookes'  desk  on  hit     .i    out. 

"  No,  we  are  not,"  said  Ned.  But  he  looked  troubled, 
and  a  trifle  paler  than  usual — in  fact,  none  of  the  guilty 
ones  looked  at  ease. 

It  was  well  known  that  Mr.  Harrison  hated  anything 
like  cheating  or  meanness;  and  when  his  indignation  was 
aroused,  he  could  speak  with  a  withering  sarcasni  which 
made  the  offender  wish  he  could  sink  through  the  floor. 

Mr.  Harrison  sat  at  his  desk  adding  up  the  columns  of 
attendance  in  his  register.  The  last  boy  had  gathered 
up  his  books  and  slammed  the  door  behind  him,  leaving 
the  room  to  silence  as  his  footsteps  echoed  down  the  cor- 
ridor. Some  snndl  boys  climbed  up  and  peeped  slyly 
in  at  the  windows  to  see  what  was  going  on,  but  failing 
to  satisfy  curiosity,  ran  off  to  join  their  schoolmates. 


70 


WAI/IKR    HAKLEY's   CONQUEST. 


Then  the  woman  who  swept  tlie  rooms  opened  one  of  the 
side  doors  and  looked  in,  but  seeing  tlic  room  occupied, 
hastily  withdrew.  Still  INIr.  Harrison  busied  himself  at 
his  desk,  ])ulting  books  and  papers  away,  setting  pens 
and  papers  in  tlieir  places  with  more  than  ordinary  2)re- 
cision.  The  boys  began  to  wish  the  storm  would  burst. 
Only  the  four  who  felt  least  concerned  sat  cahnly,  look- 
ing straight  ahead.  At  length  Mr.  Harrison  came  down 
close  to  where  the  boys  were  sitting,  and  said,  in  a  low 
tone: 

"  I  am  really  disai)pointod  in  my  boys."  He  spoke  so 
sadly  that  it  went  to  eacli  heart.  Tiiey  had  not  expected 
this.  "I  thought,"  continued  Mr.  Harrison,  after  a  mo- 
ment's silence,  "  that  you  had  better  princii)les — more 
sense  of  honor — than  to  do  a  thing  like  that." 

"Well,  Mr.  Harrison,"  said  Ned  Brookes,  who  was 
generally  the  spokesman  of  the  class,  "I,  for  one,  did  not 
think  it  was  quite  right,  but  all  the  other  boys  were  doing 
it,  and  I  thought  if  they  all  cheated,  I  might  as  well  too, 
as  I  did  not  care  to  be  at  the  foot  of  the  class." 

"They  did  not  all  cheat,  Ned,"  returned  Mr. Harrison. 

"  All  who  were  near  me  did.  I  did  not  notice  what  the 
others  were  doing." 

"And  so  you  followed  the  many  to  do  evil,  and  never 
stopped  to  think  that  you  were  acting  a  lie?"    Ned 


4 


'.4,- 


~l»" 


WALTER    IIAUI-EY'8  CONQUEST. 


71 


)no  of  the 
ocoupii'd, 
linisolf  at 
ting  pens 
iiiiiry  i^vti- 
luld  burst, 
tiily,  look- 
nnic  down 
,  in  ii  low 

e  spoke  so 
t  expected 
fter  a  mo- 
les— more 

who  waa 
le,  did  not 
fere  doing 
s  well  too, 

Harrison. 
B  what  the 

md  never 
3?"    Ned 


winced.  "  You  do  not  like  such  i)luin  terms,"  continu.  i 
Mr.  Harrison;  "but  wiiat  else  is  it.  Supi)ose  your 
])ap(ir  had  been  marked :  you  would  have  taken  a  liis,'h 
slanilinj,'.  Your  teachers,  your  schoolmates,  your  friends 
at  home,  would  all  have  supposed  that  you  were  (h)ing 
well  in  your  class,  and  that  you  possessed  a  good  knowl- 
edge of  the  subject  you  have  been  studying.  Would  that 
have  been  true  ?  " 

."  No,"  said  Ned,  softly,  then  added  :  "  I  did  not  think 
of  it  in  that  light.  I  never  did  anything  of  that  kind 
before  in  a  witten  examination.  But,  in  i)aint  of  fact,  I 
suppose  we  have  nearly  all  cheated  all  along  in  ^Ir. 
Grant's  class.  We  did  not  prepare  our  lessons  very 
nuich,  and  it  was  such  a  tenjptation  to  take  a  look  now 
and  then  ;  but  then  I  always  did  it  above  board.  I  had 
my  book  lying  on  the  desk " 

"  And  wiien  Mr.  Grant  was  not  looking  you  peeped  in  ; 
was  not  that  it?  "  interrupted  Mr.  Harrison. 

"  No,  sir ;  he  would  be  looking  as  straight  at  me  as  you 
are,  and  I  would  open  my  book  so,"— half  opening  a 
book  as  he  spoke, — "  and  he  never  said  a  word  about  it, 
and  I  thought  if  he  did  not  care,  I  need  not." 

"  That  is  what  I  thought "  ;  "  and  so  did  I,"  "  and  I," 
echoed  some  of  the  boys. 

"  Perhaps  Mr.  Grant  did  not  notice,  although  he  ap- 


i 


-r-- 


Pi; 


».*. 


72 


WAr/PKii  ii.\um:v'«  conqukst. 


pcarcd  to  l)e  lookinj,'  at  ymi.  Hut  tliat  liiiH  nothing  to  do 
with  tho  quotion.  You  know  that  it  was  wronj,'  to  hiok 
in  your  iiook  (lurinj,'  m'italion,  and  that  your  act  wont 
unnoticc'd,  or  uncorrected,  did  not  niai<o  it  rii,dit.  Tiicii 
you  800  tlio  result  of  this  course.  At  first  you  douhtle.ss 
had  wonie  scruples;  hut  thoy  graihially  faded  away,  till  at 
Ienj;th  you  felt  no  conipunctiou  whatever  in  answering  u 
<lue(ition  off  the  book." 

"  Ye.s,  sir,''  said  .some  of  tho  hoys. 

"  Then  it  was  (piite  easy  for  you  to  take  this  last  sto[)  in 
wron;,'-doing ;  and,  if  there  is  not  a  rif,dit-ahout  face,  I  am 
afraid  it  will  not  he  the  last  .step  in  the  wroni,'  direction. 
Every  time  you  stifle  the  voice  of  conscience,  aiwl  do  wiiat 
you  know  to  ho  wront;,  you  are  takins?  a  step  toward  be- 
coming such  a  character  as  you  would  shrink  from  with 
horror  could  you  see  it  to-day.  Few  men  who  have  gone 
fur  astray  had  any  intention  of  beconung  such  as  thoy  arc. 
They  went  down  stej)  by  stop,  and,  depend  upon  it,  they 
felt  more  twinges  of  conscionce  about  their  first  depart- 
ure from  right  than  about  any  other,"  The  boys  looked 
grave.  "  How  many  of  you  will  henceforth  givo  up  cheat- 
ing, and  act  at  all  times  in  a  straightforward,  maidy, 
truthful  way?"  The  hands  went  up  readily.  "It  may 
be  harder  than  you  tiiink  to  keep  the  promise.  Will  you 
join  with  me  in  asking  the  help  of  our  Heavenly  Father? " 


\ 


J 

1^ 


WAI/n:U    IIAIII.I.YS   CONQIfKHT. 


73 


tliinf»  to  do 
iij^  to  look 
r  act  went 
fht.    Tl.cii 

1      <l0lllttll'.-5.S 

way,  till  at 
uswering  a 


hiHt  ftoj)  in 
face,  I  am 
direction, 
id  do  wliat 
oward  be- 
from  with 
have  gone 
s  tliey  are. 
on  it,  they 
rst  do[)art- 
jys  looked 
?  up  cheat- 
d,  maidy, 
"  It  may 
Will  you 
Father?" 


And  then  in  a  few  Him|ile,  carneMt  wordn,  Mr.  HarriHon 
jirayed  tlmt  each  one  might  he  wlrengthencd  to  resi;<t  evil 
and  do  right. 

Very  (jwietly  the  Ixiys  dispersed.  All !  who  can  tell 
how  far-reaching  may  i)e  the  influence  of  that  (juiet  hour, 
and  the  faithful,  earnest  words  spokcu  that  allcxnoon ! 


[ 


»  ifc ■  vA ^ijVmUfr  ■■*»Ji  1to>.. . 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


THE    PRIZE    ESSAY. 


IT  was  Thursday  morning,  a  week  or  two  after  the 
examinations.  There  was  quite  a  ripple  of  excite- 
ment among  the  boys ;  for  after  tiie  opening  exercises 
Mr.  Harrison  said  he  had  "something  to  tell  them  which 
he  was  sure  would  prove  interesting,"  and  i*ead  to  them 
part  of  a  letter  from  a  Mr.  Barlow,  offering  a  prize  of 
fifty  dollars  for  the  best  essay  on  "  English  Literatui'e." 

Mr.  Barlow  was  a  friend  of  Mr.  Harrison's,  and  a 
man  of  means.  He  had  been  present  at  the  Christmas 
examination,  and  stated  his  intention  of  giving  some 
prize.  The  announcement  of  his  ofl'er  was  received  with 
cheers.     A  prize  of  fifty  dollars  was  worth  trying  for. 

"  Those  who  wish  to  compete  will  let  me  know  as  soon 
as  possible,"  said  Mr.  Harrison. 

At  recess,  most  of  the  boys  who  thought  they  had  a 

chance  of  winning    the    prize  handed  in  their  names. 

Among  them  was  Walter  Harley.      He   had  won  the 

prize  for  t      best  essay  the  previous  year  while  still  in 

the  junior  class,  and,  of  course,  did  not  intend  to  try  for 

it  again ;  but  Mr.  Harrison  agreed  with  him  that  he  had 
H 


m». 


'^'■mmimrm:'^^'.-! 


WALTER   HARLEY's   CONQUEST. 


75 


after  the 
of  excite- 
:  exercisea 
leni  which 
id  to  them 
a  prize  of 
iterature." 
I's,  and  a 
Christmas 
zing  some 
jived  with 
ng  for. 
w  as  soon 

liey  had  a 
iir  names. 
1  won  the 
lie  still  in 
to  try  for 
lat  he  had 


a  perfect  right  to  compete  for  the  one  offered  by  Mr. 
Barlow,  which  was  something  quite  different  and  quite 
distinct  from  the  ordinary  yearly  school  prize.  Walter 
had  always  excelled  in  composition;  and  perhaps  no 
one  stood  a  better  chance  of  winning  the  prize  than  he. 
So  the  boys  seemed  to  think,  as  they  gathered  in  groups, 
discussing  the  relative  chances  of  one  and  another. 

"  Are  you  going  to  try,  Ben  ?  "  asked  one  of  the  boys, 
as  Bonnie  Harris  joined  one  of  the  little  groups. 

"  Yes,"  he  answered ;  "  and  I  only  hope  1  shall  be 
successful.  If  I  am  not,  it  shall  not  be  for  want  of 
trying." 

Walter,  wlio  was  standing  a  little  aside,  noticed  such 
a  look  of  determination  in  the  blue  eyes,  and  thought  to 
himself,  "  How  largo  a  sum  fifty  dollars  must  seem  to 
Bennie!" 

"  Not  nmch  chance  for  any  of  us  when  Walter  Harlcy 
enters  the  lists,"  said  one. 

"  I  say,  Walter,  just  back  out  of  this,  and  give  some 
of  us  fellows  a  chance,  won't  you  ?  "  said  Artliur  Somers. 

"  He  Avould  be  a  fool  if  he  did,"  said  Ned  Brookes. 
"  Catch  me  backing  out  for  anybody  if  I  thought  I  was 
likely  to  get  fifty  dollars."  And  Ned  whistled  at  the 
very  thought.  Then  the  bell  rang,  putting  a  stop  to  any 
farther  conversation. 


m 

'i 


•       W  WAI.TKR    HAHLEY's   CONQUEST. 

Walter  did  not  find  the  walk  home  that  afternoon 
either  long  or  lonely,  for  his  thoughts  were  busy.  Already 
he  had  thought  out  the  general  plan  for  his  essay ;  but, 
ia  the  midst  of  all,  Bennie's  face  would  rise  up  before 
him,  and  he  saw  the  wistful  look  in  his  eyes,  as  he  had 
seen  it  that  morning,  when  Bennie  had  said  to  Mr. 
Harrison,  "I  hope  I  shall  get  the  prize."  "I  almost 
hope  Beunie  will  get  it.  There  is  no  one  who  needs  it 
more,"  he  thought. 

"  Could  you  not  withdraw  your  name,  and  so  make 
his  chance  better?"  a  voice  seemed  to  whisper.  But 
Walter  quickly  silenced  it  with,  "Oh,  no;  I  could  not 
do  that.  I  am  sure  Bennie  would  not  wish  it.  lie  may 
win  the  prize,  anyway."  •    ■ 

Benuie  had  indeed  a  good  chance,  for  in  tlie  recent 
examination  in  composition  he   had   taken   the  second 
place.    He  was  by  far  the  most  original  thinker  among 
the  boys ;  but  he  did  not  express  his  thoughts  so  well  as 
many,  yet  even  in  tliis  respect  he  was  steadily  huj-ro'/iug. 
With  these  reflections,  Walter  dismissed  all  thoughts 
of  Bennie,  and  went  on  again  with  his  dreams  of  what 
he  would  do  with  the  money  in  case  he  was  succcosful. 
The  prospect  of  possessing  this  amount  as  the  result  of 
his  own  exertions  was  very  pleasing  to  Walter— far  more 
so  than  if  his  father  weie  to  give  him  the  same  amount 


!'^>U»» 


tBaieMsafistismu^^'miHmB.m 


■NIINMMHlM 


frj,_^  i^j! 


at  afternoon 
sy.  Already 
3  essay ;  but, 
ie  up  before 
s,  as  he  had 
said  to  Mr. 
"I  almost 
^ho  needs  it 

id  so  make 
lisper.  But 
r  could  not 
'••    lie  may 

the  recent 
the  second 
ikcr  among 
3  so  well  as 
iii;;ir'i7iug, 
11  thoughts 
ns  of  ■whr.t 

succeosful. 
e  result  of 
— far  more 
tue  amount 


( 


WALTER    HAni.EY'8   CONQUEST. 


77 


outright;  and  although  there  was  not  one  boy  who 
needed  it  less  than  Walter,  he  fondly  thought  that  not 
one  would  make  so  good  a  use  of  it  as  he  would. 

The  next  day  came  and  went,  and  found  Walter  still 
thinking  and  planning  for  the  prize.  Saturday  afternoon 
be  went  to  see  Bennie  and  found  him  in  their  little  yard 
sawing  wood.  He  looked  so  slight  and  delicate,  working 
away  with  a  saw  almost  tis  big  as  himself. 

"  We  have  just  bought  a  load  of  wood,"  he  explaineJ, 
"  and  I  thought  I  would  cut  it  up  myself." 

"You  have  undertaken  quite  a  job,  I  should  say," 
replied  Walter.     "Are  you  not  tired  ? " 

"  My  back  aches  a  little,"  said  Bennie ;  "  that  is  all." 
And  he  paused  to  wipe  the  perspiration  from  his  brow. 
"  I  have  done  all  that  this  afternoon,"  pointing  to  a  pile. 
"Pretty  well,  is  it  not?  But  then  it  has  to  be  sj^lit  and 
piled  yet,"  he  added,  ruefully.  Then,  picking  up  his  saw 
again,  he  went  cheerily  to  work,  saying:  "It  will  be 
done  some  time."" 

"  Give  me  an  ax,  and  I  will  do  some  of  the  splitting." 
And  Walter  was  soon  working  away  with  a  wilL 

When  he  left  that  afternoon,  his  shoulders  were  aching, 
for  it  was  unaccustomed  work  for  him;  but  then  he  had 
helped  Bennie,  and  all  the  ^yay  home  the  little  delicate 
boy  was  in  his  thoughts.     "  I  wish  I  could  do  something 


78 


WALTKU    HAULICYS   CONQUEST, 


more  to  help  him,"  he  thought.  He  had  visited  the  little 
cottage  often  enough  to  feel  sure  that,  underneath  the 
comfortable  exterior,  there  was  real  poverty,  none  the 
less  pinching  because  so  careiuUy  concealed.  He  had 
told  his  mother  about  them,  ard  she  had  visited  the 
gentle  little  widow  and  had  found  plenty  of  sewing  for 
her  ever  since,  and  had  sent  many  things  which  her  own 
family  had  outgrown,  but  r.at  outworn,  which  could  be 
used  for  the  children.  Mo.:  than  ever  the  thought 
piressed  itself  upon  Wsiter:  '^^.Miat  a  help  that  fifty 
dollars  would  be  to  Bonnie ! "  uid  then  the  other  thought 
would  come:  "Couldn\  J  make  it  easier  for  him  to  get 
it?"  When  he  reached  he  he  dismissed  these  thoughts 
without  coming  *o  -n.y  siu  .-['?  ctory  conclusion..  It  was 
not  till  evening,  wl.en  he  wc-nt  up  to  his  room,  that  they 
returned.  He  had  intended  to  look  over  his  Sunday- 
K.  •'>ool  lesson  ;  but  the  moon  was  shini'ig  in  so  brightly  it 
geer.i'd  a  pity  to  light  u  lamp,  so  he  sat  down  by  the 
window  and  looked  out  on  a  scene  ^f  fairy-like  beauty; 

It  was  a  clear,  wintry  nigb.t.  The  stars  twinkled 
faintly  in  the  far  depths  of  the  heavens,  their  tiny  beams 
nearly  quenched  by  the  light  of  the  full  moon,  which 
poured  its  radiance  over  the  snowy  landscape.  The 
thoughts  of  the  afternoon  now  came  trooping  back, 
again.    "Why  not  give  up  your  chance  to  Bennie?" 


KW 


Pmp 


;ed  the  littlo 
erneath  the 
y,  none  the 
1.  He  had 
visited  the 
'  sewing  for 
ich  her  own 
jh  could  be 
;he  thought 
p  that  fifty 
,hcr  thought 
r  liira  to  get 
ese  thoughts 
ion..  It  was 
n,  that  they 
his  Sunday- 
0  brightly  it 
lown  by  the 
le  beautj'; 
rs  twinkled 
r  tiny  beams 
noon,  which 
scape.  The 
oping  back , 
J   Bennie?" 


T 


KV 


I 


WALTER   HAI'.LEY  8   CONQUEST.  79 

Beemed  to  ring  in  his  ears ;  and  then  folowed  a  dialogue 
between  Walter  and  his  good  angel  somewhat  on  this 
wise: 

"  I  cannot,"  said  Walter's  selfish  self.  "  Why  should  I 
give  up  my  right  to  any  one?  " 

" '  For  even  Christ  pleased  not  himself."  '  Look  not 
every  man  on  his  own  things,  but  every  man  also  on  the 
things  of  others.' " 

"  That  is  a  very  high  ideal.  One  cannot  be  expected 
to  attain  to  it." 

"  Why  not  ?  It  was  written  for  struggling  followers 
of  Jesus  just  like  you." 

"  I  would  not  mind  giving  up  the  money,  if  it  were  not 
for  the  honor  of  winning  Could  I  not  get  the  priKO, 
and  then  give  the  money  to  Bennie  ? " 

" Do  you  think  he  would  accept  it? " 

"I  suppose  not.  He  has  considerable  pride  ab  :■' 
him.  But  it  is  hard  to  give  up  the  honor  of  the  thin^." 
And  then,  in  imagination,  he  could  hear  tho  compli- 
mentary words  when  the  prize  was  presentefl  1  see  the 
flattering  notices  in  tiie  local  papers  regard  it.  How 
proud  of  him  all  his  friends  would  be  Ah,  yes,  it 
would  be  iiard  to  give  jp  tlie  honor." 

"Earthly  honors  are  fleeting;  only  the  honor  that 
Cometh  from  God  is  immortal.     In  a  f.  v  years,  perhaps 


1' 


.<f 


5  ■ 


i. 


I   'i^BK'' 


80 


WALTER    HAKLEVS  CONQUEST. 


none,  save  your  nearest  friends,  will  remember  your  tri- 
umph ;  it  will  seem  of  small  account  even  in  your  own 
eyes.  Should  you  not  rather  seek  '  the  honor  that  cometh 
from  God  only'?" 

"  But  Bennie  might  not  win  the  prize,  and  then   I 
would  feel  that  I  had  made  the  sacrifice  for  nothing." 
"  You  know  that  he  has  the  nest  best  chance." 
"  I  wish  I  had  never  put  down  my  name  at  all.     I  do 
not  see  how  I  can  withdraw  now.     The  boys  would  think 
it  queer,  and  if  they  knew,  or  even  conjectured  the  rea- 
son, they  would  think  me  very  foolish."     And  the  image 
of  Ned  Brookes  rose  before  Walter's  mind. 
"  What  matters  it  what  they  think  ?  " 
"  It  is  80  perplexing.    I  wish  I  knew  how  to  act." 
"  '  If  any  man  lack  wisdom,  let  him  ask  of  God,  who 
giveth  to  all  men  liberally.' " 

Walter  knelt  and  asked  guidance — asked  ithat  he 
might  not  consider  self  at  all ;  then  he  rose,  and  stood 
for  a  long  while  looking  out  of  the  window.  He  felt  no 
longer  any  doubt  as  to  what  he  should  do  under"  the 
circumstances  ;  he  only  felt  it  hard  to  make  up  his  mind 
to  do  it.  At  length,  with  sudden  energy,  he  said,  "  I 
will."  The  sound  of  lis  own  voice  startled  liim,  fur  in- 
voluntarily, in  his  earnestness,  he  had  spoken  aloud,  and 
the  struggle  was  over. 


r^ 


WAI/rER    HARLEY  S  CONQUEST. 


m 


er  your  tri- 
n  your  own 
that  coiuetb 

ind   then   I 

othiug." 

ice." 

xt  all.    I  do 

would  think 

red  the  rea- 

d  the  iniajje 


to  act." 

)f  God,  who 

:ed  lliat  ho 
ie,  and  stood 
He  felt  no 
0  under"  the 
up  his  mind 
he  said,  "  I 
liiiu,  fur  in- 
Q  aloud,  aud 


Everything  on  the  following  day  confirmed  and 
Btrengthened  Waiter  in  hia  resolve,  and  made  him  re- 
joice o^or  the  conquest  of  himself  His  heart  had 
been  at  rest  from  itself  for  a  little  while,  and  bo  he 
had  tried  to  be  of  service  to  another.  The  text  was : 
"  Who  loved  me,  and  gave  himself  for  me."  And  the 
thouglit  was  emphasized  that  as  Christ  gave  liimself,  so 
Christians  should  give  themselves  for  others  in  loving 
service,  and  in  ready  self-denial  for  one  another ;  and 
when  that  afternoon  Walter  saw  Bennie  come  into  Sun- 
day-school, and  his  ej'cs  fell  on  the  little  thin  hand^  that 
toiled  so  hard  for  mother  and  i  i  e,  he  felt  a  thrill  of 
joy  go  through  him  to  think,  that  he  n  ight  in  any  way 
help  him. 

Monday  morning  Walter  was  early  at  school,  and 
when  he  entered  the  schoolroom  he  was  glad  to  find  that 
Mr.  Harrison  was  also  early,  and  that  there  was  no  one 
else  in  the  room.    Walter  went  up  to  hira,  and  said :  ^ 

"  Mr.  Harrison,  I  wish  yoii  would  please  take  my 
name  from  the  list  of  competitors  for  the  prize  essay." 

"  Certainly,  if  you  wish  it,  Walter ;  but  why  have  you 
changed  your  mind,  may  I  ask  ?  " 

"  I  think,  sir,  that  it  would  be  better  for  me  to  study 
for  the  classical  medal.  You  know  I  am  rather  behind 
in  classics." 


'  'MmyamMgscauJiiMiwwtft' 


82 


WAi/rr.R  iiarley's  toxqukst. 


11 


Mr.  Harrison  siiiiled.  He  knew  Walter  had  no  lova  for 
the  classica.  "  I  am  glad  to  see  tiiiit  you  have  resolution 
enontjh  to  direct  your  enerjijies  toward  tliat  in  wliicli  you 
are  most  deticient."  But  Mr.  Harrison  felt  sure  there 
was  some  deeper,  underlying  reason  than  that  given, 
which  had  led  Walter  to  give  up  a  prize  conii)arative]y 
easy  of  attainment  for  one  which  must  be  gained  through 
toilsome  effort,  and  as  he  looked  for  a  moment  into  the 
clear  blue  eyes,  he  instinctively  guessed  tlie  reason. 
"  You  thought,  too,  you  would  give  somebody  else  a 
chance,  did  you  not?"'  he  said,  as  he  glanced  over  the 
list ;  then,  drawing  a  line  through  Walter's  name,  he 
added,  "  I  am  sorry  to  cross  yours  out,  but — aji !  well, 
there  are  better  things."  And  he  gave  AValter  one  of 
those  rare  looks,  which  was  in  itself  a  reward. 

Of  course,  none  of  the  boys  knew  anything  about  it  for 
a  while.  When,  after  a  few  days,  it  came  out,  Charlie 
Soniers  tossed  up  his  cap  with  an  "  hurrah,"  in  which  all 
the  others  joined.  In  fact,  they  were  all  too  well  pleased 
to  inquire  much  into  Walter's  reasons.  Meanwhile, 
Walter  applied  himself  diligently  to  his  classical  studies, 
and  soon  began  to  be  quite  interested  in  the  Latin  and 
Greek,  which  had  seemed  so  distasteful  before.  Nor  did 
he  ever  regret  that  he  had  made  up  his  mind  to  devote 
more  time  to  t  ae  study  of  them  than  formerly. 


:: 


I 


>-■ «y>8Jf 


1  no  love  for 
B  resolution 
which  you 
sure  there 
thiit  given, 
niJiinitively 
icd  through 
But  into  the 
the  reason, 
ody  else  a 
id  over  the 
3  name,  he 
—all!  well, 
Iter  one  of 

ahout  it  for 
3ut,  Charlie 
n  which  all 
ivell  pleased 
Meanwhile, 
ica]  studies, 
3  Latin  and 
e.  Nor  did 
id  to  devote 


CHAPTER   IX. 

WINTER   SPORTS — THE   COASTING   PARTY. 

NOW  came  the  days  of  hea\  y  snow  storms.  The  snow 
fell  fast  and  thick.  Noiselessly,  flake  upon  flake,  it 
eamc  down,  till  it  covered  fences,  and  left  no  trace  of  the 
road ;  then  the  wind  i-ose,  and  whirled  it  round  and 
round,  sweeping  it  off"  in  some  places,  and  piling  it  up 
in  great  drifts  in  others.  Then  began  the  shoveling  and 
digging.  There  were  parties  of  men  out  clearing  the 
country  roads.  In  the  town  itself,  the  sidewalks  were 
kept  clear  by  means  of  a  large  kind  of  snow  plow 
drawn  by  horses. 

It  did  not  matter  to  Walter  whether  the  roads  were 
(ilear  or  not,  for  he  donned  his  snow  shoes,  and  tramped 
ofl'  across  fields,  and  over  drifts  with  the  greatest  ease. 
Many  of  his  young  acquaintances  could  snowshoe,  and 
sometimes  they  made  up  a  party,  and  went  off*  for  a  snow- 
shoe  tramp,  which  they  all  thought  most  enjoyable. 

After  the  snow  storms  came  a  thaw ;  tiien  a  rain  which 
froze  as  it  fell ;  then  sharp  frosts  agaiu  ;  and  the  snowy 
fi(>lds  were  covered  with  a  crust  hard  enough  to  bear 
any  one. 


SHtf'tli?JS)^.J,.4-;Uil!tJ<8WBgW**i'' 


•iiiliir 


MP 


84 


WAI/IKK    HAULEY's   CON'QUKST. 


"  Wlnit  n  grand  cliiiiiee  for  collating!  "  said  Walter,  to 
liiniself,  as  he  looked  out  on  the  sloping  uplands  which 
stretched  away  hey(jnd  the  Harrington  homestead,  shin- 
ing like  burnished  silver  in  tlie  morning  suidigiit. 

It  was  Saturday,  and  Walter  went  into  the  town  in 
the  morning  to  see  if  he  could  find  some  of  the  boys, 
and  arrange  to  make  up  a  party  and  go  out  coasting; 
for  it  was  before  the  duys  of  toboggans,  and  toboggan 
slides,  and  such  a  good  opportunity  as  this  must  not  pass 
unimproved.  He  failed  to  find  any  of  the  boys,  how- 
ever. So,  after  dinner,  he  set  out  to  see  if  Arthur  and 
Mary  Harrington  could  go  witli  him ;  but  the  fates  were 
against  him,  for  on  iniiuiring  for  Arthur  he  learned  ho 
was  sick  in  bed;  he  then  asked  for  Mary.  She  soon 
appeared,  dressed  to  go  out. 

"  I  came  to  sec  if  we  could  arrange  to  go  out  coasting 
together,"  said  Walter.  "  It  is  too  bad  that  Arthur  is 
sick.    Can  you  go  ?  " 

"  I  am  going,"  she  replied.  "  Ned  Brookes  has  just 
asked  me,  and  he  is  in  the  yard  now,  getting  the  sled 

ready." 

Walter  was  very  much  disappointed.  Mary  was  gen- 
erally his  companion  in  all  amusements,  and  to  have 
Ned  Brookes  get  ahead  of  him  was  quite  too  bad.  For 
a  moment  or  two  he  felt  inclined  to  go  home,  but  he 


I 


^^ 


I 


Walter,  to 
.iids  which 
teud,  shin- 
;ht. 

,e  town  ill 
■  the  boys, 
t  coiwting; 
1  Io1)(i,i,'l;iiii 
St  not  pass 
boys,  how- 
irthur  iuid 
fiitt'M  were 
learned  he 
She  soon 

ut  coasting 
Arthur  is 

3S  has  just 
ig  the  sled 

•y  was  gen- 
iid  to  have 
I  bad.  For 
»me,  but  he 


I 


WALTER    IIARLEY  .^   CONQtTKST. 


86 


remembered  Adeline,  and  asked  Mary  if  she  thought 
her  sister  would  like  to  go. 

"Slie  would  bo  delighted,  I  am  sure,"  said  Mary,  and 
went  to  call  her.  She  accepted  AValter's  invitation,  and 
shortly  after  appeared,  looking  as  pretty  as  a  i)icture. 

Walter  began  to  feel  quite  honored  to  bo  the  escort 
of  an  acknowledged  belle,  so  was  in  very  good  humor 
when  he  met  Ned,  and  as  gay  as  though  all  had  hap- 
pened to  suit  him.  Now  and  then  he  felt  a  pang  when 
he  saw  Mary  chatting  in  her  merry  way  with  Ned,  for 
he  did  not  feel  so  much  at  ease  with  Adeline.  Happily, 
however,  she  was  fully  capable  of  carrying  on  the  con- 
versation herself,  without  uuich  aid  from  liim. 

They  selected  a  starting  point,  and  soon  the  sleds  were 
flying  along,  faster  and  faster,  down  the  hill ;  now  strik- 
ing a  little  hillock,  and  leaping  a  foot  in  the  air,  and 
bouncing  down  again,  and  on  and  on  till,  reaching  level 
ground,  the  speed  slackened  and  the  sleds  finally  came 
to  a  standstill.  There  was  such  a  long  stretch  of  hill 
that  it  was  grand  fun,  and  they  all  enjoyed  the  excite- 
ment. Then  came  the  long  walk  up  again,  and  then 
another  start,  and  so  on.  Botli  of  the  boys  could  man- 
age the  sleds  very  well,  but  Walter  was  the  more  careful 
of  the  two.  .  They  had  spent  some  time  in  this  way.  At 
last,  they  had  a  race  to  see  which  could  reach  the  top 


1 

i 


: 


H(i  w.\t;rKn  iiaiilry'h  roNQtiEsT. 

of  tho  hill  lirst.  Wiiltcr  and  Atli-lino  proved  the  (|uit'k- 
ertt  walk.'iH,  iiiid  reached  tho  Htiirtiiig  pDUit  fuxt.  IVr- 
hiips  Ned  felt  a  little  i)i(iued  about  it.  At  any  rate, 
he  Haid : 

"  Come,  Mary,  wo  won't  wait  t(;r  them  to  start.  Ia'I 
us  take  a  new  track."  And  he  placed  hi.s  sled  a  little 
farther  oH". 

"  Look  out,  Ned,  you  will  run  right  again."<t  that  fence," 
shouted  Walter. 

"  I  guess  I  know  what  I'm  doing,"'  Ned  called  hack, 
and  away  they  went.  Walter  and  Ada  stood  watching 
thcni. 

"  I  knew  it,"  .said  Walter,  as  tlie  sled  struck  an  almost 
buric<l  fence,  Ned  and  Mary  being  violently  hurled  out 
on  the  crust. 

"Oh,  I  am  afraid  Mary  is  hurt,"  cried  Adeline,  for 
she  lay  so  still,  and  Ned  Brookes  was  trying  to  raise 
her.  And  Ada  flew  down  toward  them,  followed  by 
Walter. 

When  they  reached  the  place  they  found  Mary  par- 
tially revived,  but  she  looked  very  white,  and  blood  waa 
trickling  from  her  mouth.  Ned'.s  face  was  pule  with 
fright  as  he  bent  over  her. 

"You  have  killed  her  with  your  carelessness,"  said 
Walter,  his  voice  choked  with  passion. 


«^ 


li 


tlif  (|ui<'k- 

\mt.     IVr- 

iiny  nitc, 

4utt.  Li't 
iled  11  littlu 

hat  tl'iicc," 

[ilU'd  l)ack, 
(1  wutcliing 

;  ail  almost 
Imrli'd  out 

Vdcliiir,  tor 
iijr  to  raise 
ol  lowed   by 

Mary  par- 
1  blood  was 
I    pale  with 

sness,"  said 


1^ 


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Walter  llmlcy's  Ciniiinoft. 


I'ftfic  m. 


(•'ttfe** 


-1Si855;5V;;'.'w.'.i«'^a>i«W»fe.*" 


^^^m^im^^^^miM'miiimr: 


I..I  ^   •lUniiLilUU.I 


WALTKPv    MAULKY's   CONQUEST. 


87 


"Oh,  Mary,  arc  you  much  hurt,  dear? "  said  Ada. 
"I  think  not,"  said  Mary,  speaking  slowly;  "  it  irf  only 
a  cut  in  my  lip,  is  it  not,  Ada?  "    And  she  clung  to  her 

eistej'. 

They  saw  that  that  was  all,  as  the  bleeding  gradually 

abated. 

"I  feel  so  weak,"  said  Mary,  as  she  tried  to  rise.  "I 
don't  know  why  J  am  so  foolish,  but  I  feel  all  uUstrung.' 

"No  wonder,  having  a  shock  like  that;  you  might 
have  been  seriously  hurt,"  said  Ada. 

"  You  miglit  have  known  that  you  would  strike  that 
fence,"  said  Waller,  addressing  Ned,  angrily. 

"  We  would  have  cleared  it  all  right  enough,  only  the 
sled  struck  tliis  little  hillock,  and  swung  that  way  before 
I  could  change  its  course,"  answered  Ned. 

"I  am  sure  it  was  not  Ned's  fault,"  said  Mary.  And 
she  gave  Walter  an  appealing  look,  which  seemed  to 
say,  "Please  do  not  be  angry  on  my  account."  He 
understood  it,  and  said  no  luore ;  indeed,  he  realized  the 
next  moment  that  it  was  unkind  to  repr  )ach  Ned,  who 
felt  badly  enough  as  it  was. 

They  now  turned  their  steps  homeward.  Mary  talked 
quite  gayly  to  keep  up  the  spirits  of  the  party,  and  when 
Walter  and  Ned  took  their  leave,  she  assured  them  that 
she  felt  none  the  worse  for  the  accident,  save  a  slight 


K 


..w^- 


•I 


m 


88 


WALTER   HARLEY's  CONQUEST. 


headache ;  but  to  say  the  truth,  she  had  a  very  violent 
headache,  and  had  to  go  and  lie  down  as  soon  &s  she 
went  into  the  house,  and  did  not  come  down  stairs 
that  evening. 


4r. 


s 


very  violent 
soon  aa  she 
down  stairs 


CHAPTER  X. 


WALTERS   DECISION. 

ALTHOUGH  Walter  was  a  true  Christian,  he  had 
not  yet  made  an  open  profession  of  religion,  and 
so  had  not  united  with  the  church.  His  parents  had 
never  spoken  to  him  on  the  subject ;  they  deemed  it  a 
very  important  step,  and  in  their  anxiety  that  solemn 
vows  should  not  be  taken  lightly  were  too  fearful  perhaps 
of  urging  upon  him  a  public  confession  of  the  Saviour. 

Lina  Morton  had  often  of  late  felt  a  great  longing  to 
see  more  young  people  brought  into  the  church,  and 
taking  an  active  part  in  its  services.  She  had  hoped, 
as  Avinter  came  on,  that  there  might  be  a  deepened 
interest — a  general  awakening,  and  that  many  might  be 
gathered  in.  There  were  many  of  whom  she  thought ; 
some  of  them  she  felt  sure  were  not  far  fi'om  the  king- 
dom, and  she  longed  to  have  them  take  a  decided  stand 
on  the  side  of  Christ  and  his  people.  But  the  weeks 
slipped  by.  No  special  effort  was  put  forth,  other  things 
crowded  in  and  filled  up  the  evenings,  and  the  harvest 
time  for  the  church  was  fast  passing  away. 

The  church  at  ICuowlton  was  not  very  large,  nor  was 


■^-Hkr- 


-^*' 


h 


90 


WALTKU    IIARLEY's   CONQUEST. 


there  nny  prospect  that  it  ever  would  be  ;  for  Kiiowlton 
W!i«  not  a  growing  phice,  and  tiic  young  jncn  and  the 
young  women  who  might  have  been  a  strength  to  the 
ciuireh  wen;  obliged  to  go  elsewhere  to  seek  enii>loyincnt. 
Again  and  again  the  pastor,  Mr.  Somers,  felt  discouraged, 
na  one  and  another  of  his  helpers  loft  for  some  other 
l)lace.  But  still  the  little  ehurch  kept  alive  ;  and  it  was 
the  s])iritual  birthplace  of  many  whose  energies  were 
afterward  employed  in  churches  far  distant. 

Walter  was  one  of  those  who  Avere  often  in  Lina's 
thoughts.  She  wanted  to  speak  to  him  about  confessing 
the  Saviour,  whom  she  felt  sure  he  was  trying  to  follow. 
One  day  the  opportunity  came.  Liua  had  taken  tea  at 
Elmwood,  and  as  it  was  the  evening  of  the  regular 
church  prayer  meeting,  Walter  accompanied  her  to 
church.  It  was  a  beautiful  night  in  March.  The  new 
moon  hung  low  in  the  western  sky,  and  threw  a  soft, 
mellow  radiance  over  the  scene.  The  snow,  which  had 
melted  rapidly  in  the  sun  during  the  day,  now  crackled 
crisply  under  their  feet. 

"  What  a  splendid  night !  "  said  Lina. 

"  Yes ;  too  fine  to  be  indoors,"  returned  Walter.  And 
then  they  walked  along  in  silence  for  a  few  moments. 

There  was  one  thought  uppermost  in  Lina's  mind: 
"  What  a  good  opportunity  to  speak  to  Walter  I "    Yet 


I 


— ik. 


WAi-TKn  uahley's  CONQUKST. 


91 


r  Knowlton 
en  and  tho 
iigtii  to  the 
ini)loyincnt. 
liseoii  raged, 
80I11C  other 
;  and  it  was 
ergica  were 

a  in  Lina's 
t  confessing 
g  to  follow, 
akcn  tea  at 
the  regular 
ied  her  to 
The  new 
irew  a  soft, 
which  had 
)w  crackled 


liter.    And 
loments, 
ina's  mind: 
terl"    Yet 


:i 


she  shrank  from  it.  "  I  hope  we  shall  have  a  good  meet- 
ing to-night,"  she  said,  presently ;  then  she  added,  ab- 
ru]itly,  feaitul  lest  her  courage  might  fail,  "Walter,  why 
do  you  not  unite  with  the  church  ?  You  arc  a  Chrintian  ?  " 
"  I  have  thought  of  it  sonletinlo^*,"  ho  said,  quietly, 
— evidently  it  was  no  new  thouglit  to  him, — "but 
I  have  felt  afraid  that  after  joining  the  church  I  might, 
in  some  way,  dishonor  my  profession.  People  expect 
very  much  of  one  who  takes  an  open  stand,  and  they 
would  be  more  apt  to  notice  any  failures  in  me  then  than 


uow. 


"But,  Walter,  that  is  want  of  faith.  The  Saviour 
whom  you  avow  is  able  to  keep  you  from  falling.  You 
would  fail  now  if  you  trusted  in  your  own  strength. 
And  how  are  you  most  likely  to  receive  blessing  and 
strength — when  obeying  Christ's  commands,  or  when 
neglecting  them  ?  " 

"Well,  Lina,  I  believe  you  are  right,  and  I  have 
thought  for  some  time  that  when  there  was  a  good  oppor- 
unity — when  there  were  others  uniting  with  the  church 
— I  Avould  do  so  also." 

"Why  wait  for  others,  Walter?  Perhaps  they  are 
waiting  for  some  one  else  to  lead  the  way,  Why  not  be 
the  first?  Dome  out  alone,  if  need  be,  and  others  might 
soon  follow  your  example." 


..  ...4».. 


ra 


WALTER    HAUI-EY's   COXQUEST. 


"  Oh,  Lina,  I  could  not  do  that !  How  ciwy  for  Charlie 
and  Arthur  Soincrs— their  father  being  the  i)astor  of  the 
church— to  make  tiie  first  move." 

"  I  do  not  know  that  Charlie  has  given  his  heart  to 
Jesus.  Arthur  is,  I  am  sure,  a  Christian,  but  you  know 
he  is  a  timid,  shrinking  boy  ;  and  just  think  how  much 
strength  you  might  be  to  him  I  I  am  sure  that  if  one 
wijo  loved  Christ  would  openly  confess  that  love,  good 
results  would  follow.  It  might  be  the  beginning  of  a 
revival." 

"Walter  walked  along  very  seriously  for  a  while,  and 
then  said : 

"  I  suppose  the  members  of  the  church  would  not  care 
very  much  if  I,  a  mere  boy,  should  join.  It  will  be  some 
years  before  I  can  be  of  much  use  to  the  church." 

"  You  very  much  mistake  Christians  if  you  think  they 
would  feel  no  pleasure  in  welcoming  you  to  their  number. 
If  you  can  be  but  little  help  inside  the  church,  you  cer- 
tainly are  not  any  outside." 

They  were  near  the  lecture  room  now,  and  Walter  said, 
decidedly  :  "  I  could  never  be  the  first." 

"  I  have  done  no  good,"  thought  Lina  ;  and  certainly 
she  felt  that  it  was  a  hard  thing  for  "Walter  to  do.  There 
were  no  boys  in  the  church,  and  she  did  not  remer  Ser 
when  any  so  young  aa  Walter  had  joined.    The  prayer 


IT. 

sy  for  Cluirlie 
{Mistor  of  the 

hia  heart  to 
ut  you  know 
ik  how  much 
■c  that  if  one 
at  love,  good 
ginning  of  a 

a  while,  and 

ould  not  care 

;  will  he  some 

irch." 

u  think  they 

iieir  number. 

reh,  you  cer- 

Walter  said, 

nd  certainly 
o  do.  There 
t  remer  *ier 
The  prayer 


v: 


WALTER    IIAULKVS   CONQITKST. 


93 


meetings  were  not  very  largely  attondiul,  and  thouc  who 
took  part  in  thorn  were,  for  the  most  i)art,  in  middle  life, 
or  advanced  in  years.  It  would  hv  sucli  a  now  tiling  for 
a  young  lad  to  confess  Christ  that  she  knew  it  would  bo 
an  cfl'ort  for  Walter.  Liua  folt  diaeouragod ;  then  she 
remenibored  who  it  was  that  felt  a  deeper  interest  in  the 
growth  of  his  church  than  she  possibly  could,  and  she 
laid  all  her  anxieties  at  the  Master's  feet,  and  felt  his 
peace  fill  her  heart. 

During  the  days  that  followed,  everything  conspired  to 
bring  the  subject  of  their  conversation  constantly  before 
Walter.  The  sermon  on  Sunday  morning  was  from  tho 
text:  "Who  is  on  the  Lord's  side?"  and  in  the  after- 
noon Mr.  HarrlMiu  followed  up  the  words  of  the  morning 
with  an  earnest  appeal  to  his  scholars  to  decide  now  whom 
they  would  serve  ;  and  if  any  had  made  a  decision  to  servo 
God,  to  openly  avow  it. 

A  week  psissed  away,  and  again  it  was  Fi-iday  evening ; 
and  Lina,  as  usual,  set  off  to  prayer  meeting.  She  was 
alone,  as  her  mother  did  not  feel  able  to  go  out,  that 
evening,  and  her  father  could  not  go  until  later.  It:  was 
less  than  five  minutes  before  the  hour  of  opening  when 
Lina  entered  the  lecture  room,  when  only  about  a  half 
dozen  were  present.  Almost  immediately  after,  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Harley  and  Walter  entered  ;  others  came  dropping 


i 


'l 


I 


<Mm^i^6imimimiii^ltmm^ 


m 


H 


WAKTKU    IUJU.KY'h   CONQUEST. 


i 


in,  until  at  length  the  u,siiul  nunilxir  had  guthorcd.     By 

thirt  time,  liowever,  the  pastor  had  nearly  liiiislu-d  tiio 

short  opoiiing  addrtw,   whidi  wa.s   wo    full    of    helpful 

thought-i,  that  Linii  wi^ihed  every  tuenihcr  of  the  chuich 

could  have  heard  it.     Tlien  Mr.  Ilarley,  who  wiw  one  of 

the  doacourt,  ollered  i)raycr  ;    Deacon  IIod^r.s(,n  followed; 

then  came  a  pau.se.    Home  of  the  hrelliren  who  usually 

took  part  in  the  .services  were  not  present.    The  minister 

gave  out  a  hynm,  which   wa.s  sung  heartily,  afier  which 

Mr.  Morton,  who  luid  just  come  iu,  said  a  few   worda. 

Then  cumc  another  immc.     "  As  some  of  those  who  are 

accustomed  to  take  i)art  in  our  meetin:,'s  are  absent," 

said  Mr.  Somers,  "  I  hope  those  whose  voices  are  seldom 

heard  will  feel  it  a  duty  and  a  privilege  to  say  a  few  words." 

No  one  stirred.     Then  Lina  started  a  hymu  ;  and  her 

voice  rang  out,  clear  and  sweet : 

"  Now  just  a  word  for  .Tesus, 
Your  (Itari'Ht  friend,  bo  truo ; 
»  Como,  I'lieor  our  hcBits,  and  tell  us 

What  ho  has  done  for  you." 

She  put  her  whole  heart  into  it ;  for  she  felt  such  a  long- 
ing that  it  might  i)rove  a  message  to  some  heart  there. 
In  a  moment  she  felt  some  one  behind  grasp  the  back  of 
her  chair  nervously,  and  her  heart  thrilled  as  Walter 
said,  in  a  low,  clear  voice,  though  not  witliout  effort  : 


tj 


I 


-T. 

^iiiIktcmI.  By 
Y  fiiii.HluHi  till! 
II  of  helpful 
af  the  church 

II)  WIW  OHO  of 
!»m  followed ; 

who  urtuiilly 
Tho  inini.tU'r 
,  ufter  which 
u  few  words, 
lioso  who  uro 

are  absent," 
iS  are  soidom 
a  few  words." 
im ;  and  lier 


\VAI<TKIl    ItAIU-KYS   COXtilllXr. 


96 


■ 


sucli  a  long- 
heart  there. 
'  tho  back  of 
d  as  Walter 
it  effort : 


"  I  love  Jcaus ;  and  I  want  to  follow  hini  in  al!  his 
coninmnds." 

How  tho  minister's  face  l)rij,'htenod  I  "  Thank  Ooil!" 
ho  said,  fervently.  "  Are  thoro  not  soino  others  who  will 
make  a  similur  confession  ?  " 

They  sang  again.  Then  hoiuo  one  rose  at  tho  other 
end  of  tho  room,  and  said,  timidly,  "  I  love  Jesus,"  and 
sat  down,  unable  to  add  more. 

"  God  bless  you,  my  son !  "  said  Mr.  Somers,  with  emo- 
tion, for  it  W!)s  none  other  than  his  own  son  Arthur. 

"  I  tliink,"  said  the  pastor,  in  ch).-iiiig  the  meeting,  "  wo 
may  well  sing,  '  Praise  Uod  from  whom  all  blessings 
flow';  for  what  can  make  the  Christian's  heart  so  glad 
08  to  see  disciples  brought  in?" 

If  Walter  had  thought  the  staid  old  member-s  of  Lang- 
ton  S(juaro  Church  would  give  him  an  Imlifferent  wel- 
come, ho  felt  that  he  had  much  mistaken  them,  tw  good 
Deacon  Hodgson  grasped  his  hand  heartily,  and  otiiers, 
whom  he  only  partially  knew,  came  np  and  gave  him 
a  warm  Christian  greeting. 

"  I  was  so  glad  to  hear  you  to-niglit,"  said  Lina,  when 
she  had  an  oi)portunity  to  speak  to  Walter. 

"  That  hymn  you  sang  helped  me  so  much,"  he  re- 
turned. 

Not  long  after,  Walter  and  Arthur  were  baptized  on 


! 


:   I 


i  If- 


96 


WALTER    HARt-EV'S   CONQUEST. 


pi'ofcssion  of  faith  and  united  with  the  church,  and  sat 
down  together  at  the  Lord's  table.  It  was  a  happy  time 
for  both  of  them ;  and  Walter  especially  felt  glad  that 
he  had  not  waited  longer  to  enjo;'  this  privilege. 

This  was  the  beginning  of  a  season  of  revival.  Others 
who  had  long  been  waiting  came  out  now  on  the  Lord's 
side.  Special  meetings  were  held,  and  there  was  a  deep 
interest  awakened  among  the  young  in  the  Sunday-school. 

Walter  had  two  surprises  in  this  revival.  One  was 
that  Ned  Brookes  was  one  of  those  who  professed  faith 
in  Christ  and  united  with  the  church ;  the  other  was  that 
Beunie  Harris  was  not  among  that  number.  Walter  felt 
so  sure  that  Benuie  would  come ;  he  seemed  not  far  from 
the  kingdom.  But  at  the  close  of  the  meetings  he  was 
just  where  he  was  at  the  beginning.  He  appeared  to  be 
waiting  for  some  wonderful  experience. 

"  X  read  the  Bible,  I  try  to  pray,"  he  said,  when  Wal- 
ter one  day  spoke  to  him  on  the  subject ;  "  but  I  cannot 
see  any  light,  I  cannot  feel  that  my  sins  are  forgiven. 
Sometimes  I  hope  I  am  a  Christian,  then  again  I  fear  I 
am  not.' 

Walter  quoted  precious  promises,  but  all  in  vain. 

"  They  are  not  for  me,"  said  Benuie,  sadly. 

"Surely  you  cannot  say  that  of  this  one,  'Him  that 
Cometh  unto  me,  I  will  in  no  wise  cast  out '  ?  " 


I 


. 


ill  in  vain. 

idly. 

one,  'Him  that 

t'?" 


L 


1 


EST. 

church,  and  sat 
[IS  a  happy  time 
y  felt  glad  that 
ivilege. 

•evival.  Others 
'  on  the  Lord's 
ere  was  a  deep 
3  Sunday-school, 
rival.  One  was 
professed  faith 
e  other  was  that 
er.  Walter  felt 
led  not  far  from 
leetiugs  he  was 
!  appeared  to  be 

said,  when  Wal- 
;  "  but  I  cannot 
is  are  forgiven. 
.  again  I  fear  I 


WALTER   HARLEy'.S   CONQUEST. 


97 


> 


t 


"  No,"  said  Bennie ;  "  but  I  cannot  seem  to  come." 
"  Why,  Ben,  it  is  only  just  beUcving  what  God  says, 
that  for  Christ's  sake  he  freely  forgives  your  sins,  and 
gives  you  eternal  life." 

But  Ben  could  not  see  that  it  was  "  simply  trusting, 
that  is  all.'  He  must  do  something,  or  feel  something 
before  he  could  feel  satisfied  that  he  was  a  Christian. 
Walter,  telling  his  mother  about  it,  said : 
"  It  does  seem  so  strange ;  there  is  Ned  Brookes,  who 
has  always  been  so  far  off",  is  not  troubled  with  doub+  at 
all,  and  good  little  Ben  is  all  in  the  dark." 

"That  is  often  the  case,"  said  Mrs.  Harley :  "'the  last 
shall  be  first,  the  first  last.'  Perhaps  we  cannot  do  better 
for  Bennie  than  pray  that  light  may  shine  in  upon  him, 
and  that  the  Holy  Spirit  may  reveal  Jesus  to  him." 


^ 


CHAPTER  XI. 


ANTICIPATIONS. 


ONE  bright  afternoon  in  May,  Walter  bounded  into 
his  uncle's.  It  was  house-cleaning  time,  and  he 
found  Lina  up  stairs,  mending  a  carpet ;  for  she  was  a 
practiced  hand  in  making  a  worn  carpet  look  almost  as 
good  as  new. 

"  We  are  not  prepared  to  receive  company,"  said  Lina, 
with  an  arch  smile. 

"So  much  the  better,"  returned  Walter,  flinging  his 
books  aside,  and  seating  himself  on  a  table ;  "  I  shall-not 
have  to  put  on  company  manners." 

For  a  few  minutes  he  sat  in  silence,  watching  Lina'c 
busy  fingers  as  she  deftly  sewed  the  carpet.  At  length 
he  heaved  a  doleful  sigh. 

"What  is  the  matter,  Walter?  You  might  groan  if 
you  had  this  carpet  to  mend  ;  as  it  is,  I  do  not  think  you 
have  much  to  sigh  over." 

"  Ah !  you  don't  know  what  is  before  me,  Lina.  Car- 
pets are  nothing  to  it !  Cousin  Flora  is  coming  to  spend 
the  summer — only  think  of  it,  Lina,  the  whole  summer ; 
she  thinks  it  will  do  her  health  good." 


■■gn>wiiiguiuiij!Lni»iBai 


'mr' 


-.i;aj.i  '  1 


Mil.  If  ijii.i.ji«iil  i:,iip(»jjftyiJglliMl.\,t<.Jl{P' .'-  ^*' ' 


'^ 


WALTER    barley's  CONQUEST. 


99 


p  bounded  into 
;  time,  and  he 
;  for  she  waa  a 
.  look  almost  as 

ny,"  said  Lina, 

or,  flinging  hia 
e ;  "  I  shall'not 

atching  Lina'c; 
let.     At  length 

night  groan  if 
)  not  think  you 

le,  Lina.  Car- 
oming to  spend 
vhole  summer; 


fl 


Lina  burst  out  laughing. 

"  Is  that  all  the  sympathy  you  can  show  a  poor  fel- 
low?" returned  Waltci',  pretending  to  be  indignant. 

"  What  difference  does  it  make  to  you,  Walter,  if  she 
does  come  to  stay  all  summer?  ' 

"All  the  difference  in  the  world.  She  spent  six 
weeks  with  us  two  summers  ago,  and  I  was  so  glad  to 
see  her  go." 

"Walter!" 

"  Well,  I  was ;  and  you  would  have  been  too,  if  you 
had  been  I.  You  know  she  is  an  invalid,  or  thinks  she 
is,  and  when  she  comes  to  the  table  she  looks  as  though 
she  would  die.  She  has  no  appetite :  she  cannot  eat  this, 
and  she  dare  not  take  the  other— in  fact,  nothing  suits 
her ;  and  Avhen  we  go  out  for  a  drive,  we  have  to  walk 
the  horses  all  the  way,  for  if  they  went  fast  she  could  n(.t 
bear  it,  you  know."  And  Walter  put  on  a  languid  air. 
"  Then  she  has  to  have  every  door  shut,  she  is  so  afraid 
of  draught ;  she  is  always  chilly  when  nobody  else  thinks 
of  being  so — and  mother,  just  the  sweetest  mother  in  the 
world,  generally  gets  in  such  a  fuss  when  she  is  there ;  and 
if  I  come  in  whistling,  or  happen  to  shut  a  door  too  hard, 
it  is, '  Oh,  Walter,  do  be  careful ;  I  am  afraid  you  will 
waken  Flora :  she  is  resting.'  I  do  not  see  why  she  can- 
not rest  at  night,  like  othei  folks." 


»ap* 


^.rj  ifjiiiniix 


100 


WALTER    IIAHLEYS   CONQUEST. 


"  Well,  Walter,  I  think,  from  all  you  say,  that  Flora 
is  very  much  to  be  pitied." 

"  I  don't  think  so ;  I  think  it  is  mostly  imaginary." 

"  I  think  that  you,  who  have  never  knoAvn  a  day's  sick- 
ness, are  not  in  a  position  to  judge.  It  is  easy  for  you  to 
think  lier  ills  are  all  imaginary.  Perhp.iyi  you  ^vovild  have 
a  different  story  to  tell  if  you  were  in  her  ahuci.  You  do 
not  know  how  illness  changes  life ;  if  you  did,  you  would 
have  more  patience  with  what  seems  to  you  now  mere 
fussiness." 

"  Still,  I  have  known  people,"  said  Walter,  "  who  I  am 
sure  suffer  more  than  she  does,  and  yet  one  scarcely  real- 
ized that  they  were  invalids,  they  were  so  pleasant  and 
agreeable." 

"  That  may  be.  Flora  may  have  been  accustomed  to 
dwell  too  much  on  her  own  feelings,"  said  Lina.  And 
then  she  added,  gently;  "Perhaps,  unlike  those  others 
whom  you  have  in  mind,  she  has  not  yet  learned  what  a 
friend  we  have  in  Jesus." 

Walter  was  silent  for  a  moment  or  two,  then  said : 

"  Well,  I  wibh  she  were  different,  since  she  is  coming  to 
spend  the  summer  with  us." 

"  Think,"  said  Lina,  looking  up  with  a  bright  smile, 
"  that  it  is  an  opportunity  for  you  bravely  and  manfully 
to  lighten  another's  burden, '  to  bear  the  infirmities  of  the 


*^iiNULmj'aETiiaMwi 


-79^ 


i 


\ 


^■;i>i>iwii  liity 


EST. 

say,  that  Flora 

imaginary." 
iwn  a  day's  sick- 
;  easy  for  you  to 
you  would  have 
oh'.v..;.  You  do 
I  did,  you  would 
I  you  now  mere 

Iter,  "  who  I  am 
ne  scarcely  real- 
30  pleasant  and 

1  accustomed  to 

aid  Lina.    And 

ike  those  others 

learned  what  a 

,  then  said : 
she  is  coming  to 

a  bright  smile, 
y  and  manfully 
infirmities  of  the 


WALTER    HARI.EY's   CONQUEST. 


101 


weak,'  and  not  to  please  yourself,  and  the  summer  will 
pa.ss  away  more  pleasantly." 

"  You  always  think  of  something  good,  Lina ;  but,  after 
all,  no  matter  what  a  follow  might  do,  it  would  be  all  the 
same  to  Flora  :  she  would  not  think  anything  of  it." 

"  We  serve  the  Lord  Christ,"  said  Lina,  reverently. 

The  word  went  to  Walter's  heart. 

"  I  see,  Lina,"  he  said,  thoughtfully,  "  it  is  enough  if 
Christ  approve,  though  we  gain  no  praise  from  man." 

"  Yes,"  said  Lina,  simply.  Her  needle  went  fltushing 
in  and  out  of  the  carpet  for  a  few  moments,  then  she  said, 
triumphantly,  "  There !  I  have  put  the  last  stitch  in  this 
carpet." 

"  Do  you  want  to  tack  it  down?  "  said  Walter,  jump- 
ing off  the  table  with  alacrity.  "I  will  help  you  if 
you  do." 

"  Thank  you  ;  that  would  be  very  good  of  you."  And 
soon  they  were  both  at  work,  pulling  and  stretching  and 
hammering.  It  did  not  take  long  to  put  it  down ;  then, 
with  much  laughter  and  merriment,  they  moved  the 
furniture  into  place. 
"  Now,  does  not  the  carpet  look  well  ?  ".  said  Lina. 
"  It  looks  just  splendid,  Lina.  I  do  not  see  how  you 
managed  it  so  well.  I  must  go  now ;  it  must  be  nearly 
six  o'clock." 


19^ 


102 


WALTEU    IIARLKY's   CONQUEST. 


"Stay  to  tea,  won't  you,  Walter.  We  can  give  you 
something  to  eat,  if  ',w  are  Louse  cleaning," 

"  I  can't  stay,  Lina,  thank  you ;  tlicy  would  be  looking 
for  me  home  to-night.  Dear  me  I  only  ten  minutes; 
I  must  run.  Good-bye,  Lina ;  good-bye,  aunt.''  And 
Walter  was  off. 

"  Dear  'ooy  I "  said  Mrs.  Morton,  "  it  does  me  good  to 
see  him  ;  he  is  always  so  bright  and  merry." 

"  Yes,  he  makes  sunshme  wherever  he  goes,"  returned 
Lina. 

Both  mother  and  daughter  sadly  missed  Rob,  the  only 
son  and  brother,  wlio  was  away  at  college.  He  was  un- 
like Walter,  being  quieter  and  more  studious ;  yet  he  too 
made  brightness  in  his  home,  and  it  seemed  very  dull 
without  him. 

Walter's  boy  friends  knew  they  were  always  welcome 
to  come  to  Mr.  Harley's  library  whenever  they  wanted 
to  gain  more  information  on  subjects  than  their  own 
stock  of  books  supplied  ;  and  sometimes  after  school  one 
or  more  would  walk  home  with  Walter  to  look  up  some 
additional  facts  in  history,  or  to  consult  a  larger  atlas,  or 
to  gain  additional  knowledge  from  l)ooks  of  travel  and 
research.  Walter  was  not  long  in  extending  the  invita- 
tion to  Bennie.  So  one  pleasant  spring  afternoon  Bennie 
paid  his  first  visit  to  Walter's  home. 


^ 


.'"HJKi!.mmwi|il|iW 


nt^ 


>^.  ifg^mif!itififf>Afi^t0^p^f::-/m'^ 


FEST. 

^e  can  give  you 

g." 

vould  be  looking 
[y  ten  minutes; 
'C,  aunt.''    And 

does  roe  good  to 

ry." 

5  goes,"  returned 

3d  Rob,  the  only 
ge.  He  was  un- 
lious ;  yet  he  too 
demed  very  dull 

always  welcome 
sver  they  wanted 
than  their  own 
after  school  one 
to  look  up  some 
a  larger  atlas,  or 
ks  of  travel  and 
ading  the  invita- 
ifternoon  Bennie 


WALTEIt   HAKLEY's  CONQUEST. 


103 


"  What  a  lo'  ely  home  you  have,  Walter  I "  said  Bennie, 
as  they  came  in  sight  of  the  house. 

"  It  is  j)leasant ;  you  must  come  often  in  summer,  Ben. 
It  will  remind  you  of  the  country." 

Walter  ran  u\>  the  steps,  arid  led  the  way  into  the  hall, 
and  through  rooms  which  to  Bennie  looked  very  spacious 
and  handsome.  But  when  they  reached  the  library, 
Bennie  felt  like  one  on  enclianted  ground. 

"  How  lovely! "  he  said,  half  to  himself,  as  he  glanced 
r.round  at  the  rows  upon  rows  of  books.  "  If  I  lived 
hf^re,  I  should  spend  all  my  time  in  this  room." 

"Too  much  time  for  your  own  good,"  said  Walter, 
laughing.  "Now  I  am  no  such  bookworm.  I  never 
expect  to  be  killed  by  study.  Here,  Bennie,  and  here, 
and  here,"  he  continued,  "  are  the  books  that  will  help 
you,"  drawing  out  one  after  another,  and  laying  them 
upon  the  table. 

Bennie  looked  half  bewildered  by  the  array.  He  had 
come  to  gather  up  facts  to  help  him  in  preparing  his 
prize  essay. 

"I  shall  not  be  able  to  look  through  all  those,"  he  said. 
"Oh,  yes,  you  will,"  replied  Walter.    "In  some  of 
them  there  will  be  only  a  page  or  two  that  will  invierest 
you.    Take  the  study  chair,  and  make  yourself  comfort- 
able." 


.ai»W'i>A»»*W»ill.<^'i"'*Wiffir_ 


104 


WALTER   HARLEY's   CXJNQUEST. 


While  Bcnnie  searched  the  books,  making  occasional 
notes  on  a  piece  of  paper,  Walter  selected  a  book  of 
adventures,  threw  himself  into  an  arm  chair,  and  was 
soon  engrossed  in  the  tale.  The  time  passed  away 
quickly.    At  length  Bennie  closed  the  books,  and  said : 

"  I  have  finished  now.  I  think  I  have  all  the  facts  I 
need." 

"Yes?"'  said  Walter,  abstractedly,  still  going  oa 
reading. 

Bennie  left  the  table,  and  took  an  easy  chair  by  the 
fireplace,  and  seeing  that  Walter  was  absorbed  in  his 
book,  he  gave  himself  up  to  a  quiet  enjoyment  of  his  sur- 
roundings, and  dreams  of  a  possible  future  in  which  he 
figured  as  the  possessor  of  a  similar  house.  Bennie  had 
a  happy  disposition  in  that  he  never  envied  others  more 
fortunately  situated  than  himself.  His  good  times  were 
always  yet  to  come;  and  hope  painted  many  bright 
pictures  as  ho  looked  forth  with  vague  longings  into 
manhood.  He  was  soon  as  deeply  lost  in  his  musings 
as  Walter  was  in  his  book. 

Having  come  to  the  end  of  a  very  exciting  adventure, 
Walter  suddenly  came  back  to  the  realization  of  things 
about    him.    "  Oh,  have  you  finished  Ben  ? "  he  ex-, 
claimed.     "  Did  you  find  anything  to  help  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,  thank  you,"  replied  Bennie. 


$ 


I'JL. 


ST. 

king  occasional 
ted  a  book  of 
chuir,  and  was 
3  passed  away 
ooks,  and  said : 
)  all  the  facts  I 

itill    going    on 

3y  chair  by  the 
bsorbcd  in  hia 
uent  of  his  sur- 
re  in  which  he 
3.  Bennie  had 
ied  others  more 
;ood  times  were 
I  many  bright 
longings  into 
in  his  musinga 

ting  adventure, 
ation  of  things 
Ben?"  he  ex-. 
)you?'' 


'  1  'wm^f-lW'  .^"^i''^t"' 


WALTKU    IIAIILKV'S   CONQUEST.  105 

"Ck)me  up  again,  and  look  tlieni  over  if  you  want  to.  I 
must  lend  you  tliis  book ;  it  is  just  splendid— so  exciting." 

"1  should  like  to  read  it  very  lucli,  but  do  not  lend  it 
to  me  until  this  essay  is  oil"  my  mind.     I  must  stick  to 

that." 

"  All  right ;  you  shall  have  it  for  the  holidays." 

"  How  nice  it  must  be  to  have  all  the  books  you  want !  ' 
said  Bennie,  looking  around  with  hungry  eyea  on  the 
tempting  volumes.  "How  I  should  like  to  have  a 
library  just  like  this!  '" 

Walter  smiled ;  it  seemed  as  though  anything  of  that 
kind  must  be  such  a  long  way  otf,  and  most  unlikely  of 
attainment  for  such  a  little  fellow  as  Bennie. 

"It  must  be  pleasant,"  continued  Bennie,  "to  be  a 
professor  in  a  college,  and  have  books  always  around 

one." 

"Yes,"  said  Walter,  "I  suppose  so;  though  I  would 
rather  go  into  business.  Would  you  like  to  be  a  pro- 
fessor ? " 

"  Oh,  I  would  dearly  like  it,"  said  Bennie,  eiu-nestly. 

"  Perhaps  you  may  be  some  day." 

"  I  am  afraid  not,"  returned  Bennie,  with  a  little  sigh. 
. "  My  brothers  and  sisters  must  have  a  chance,  and  I  am 
the  one  who  wUl  have  to  help  them.  Father  said  when 
he  died  that  I  must  take  his  place." 


i 


106 


WALTEU    IIAUI.EYB   UtKQUKST. 


Ah!  how  often  a  boy  Hiuldcnly  becomes  a  man  ia 
thoiij^lit  and  I'eelinj,',  wlieii  nilli'd  to  take  tiithcr's  phice  1 

As  Walter  looked  into  that  boyisli  i'aco,  tlirouj,'!!  wbieh 
shone  the  earnest  purpose  of  a  brave  soul,  ennobling  and 
glorifying  it,  he  could  not  say  anything  for  the  choking 
feeling  that  came  in  his  throat. 

There  wrs  silence  for  a  few  moments.  "  I  shall  always 
study  all  I  can,  however,"  said  Bennie,  "  and  learn  all  I 
can,  and  have  as  many  books  around  me  as  I  can  aflbrd 
to  buy.     But  it  is  time  I  went  home." 

"  If  you  can  wait  a  moment.  I  will  fetch  the  mngazine 
I  was  going  to  lend  you." 

"  I  am  80  much  obliged  to  you,"  said  Bennie,  on  leav- 
ing, "  for  letting  me  look  through  those  book-i." 

"  Oh,  that  was  nothing.  I  am  very  glad  to  help  you 
in  any  way,"  replied  Walter.  But  he  little  knew  how 
much  he  had  helped  his  young  friend  by  thus  sharing  hia 
advantages  with  him — how  all  good  and  worthy  ambi- 
tions had  been  quickened  and  strengthened  even  by  the 
8igl)t  of  that  home,  which  seemed,  to  Bennie's  wondering 
eyes,  like  a  glimpse  into  fairy  land. 


liST. 

II1C8  a  man  in 
t'atlu'r'rt  pliK'o  I 
,  tlirou^'li  whicli 
1,  ciiiiohlingaiid 
fur  thii  choking 

"  I  shall  iilwaya 

'  niid  Iciini  all  I 

tm  1  can  uiiurd 

Ii  the  magazine 

kiinic,  on  leav- 

lOolfl." 

id  to  help  you 
ittlc  know  how 
titud  sharing  hia 
J  worthy  ambl- 
ed even  by  the 
inie's  wondering 


j.jpiii.  I  ,|iii.i  till,   I  urn  I     III  ■ 


CHAPTER  XII. 

FLOUA  LANQLKY. 

111.011  A  LA.NGLEY  was  a  cousin  of  Mr.  Ilarley'a. 
She  wius  an  only  child,  and  from  infancy  had  been 
l)ettcd  and  Hpoiled  by  her  parents.     Indeed,  their  foolish 
indulj,'cnco  was,  in  a  great  measure,  tlio  cause  of  her  ill 
health.     In  childhood  she  was  allowed  to  sit  up  late,  to 
eat  rich  and  unwholesome  food,  and  had  begun  a  round 
of  parties  wlien  many  a  child  wouhl  be  scarcely  out  of 
the  nursery.     It  was  little  wonder,  tlien,  that  by  the  time 
womaidiood  was  reached,  Flora's  health  wtus  ruined.   She 
struggled  along  for  some  time.  keei)ing  up  a  round  of 
pleasure,  but  became  at  length  a  perfect   invalid,  and 
now  at  thirty  life  was  a  burden  she  would  fain  lay  down. 
And,  as  Lina  had  suggested.  Flora  knew  not  that  Friend 
who  bears  uur  burdens  and  carries  our  sorrows.     It  is 
true  that,  when  able,  she  had  attended   church.     She 
had  heard  Jesus  proclaimed,  had  listened  to  his  word, 
and  was  acquainted  with  the  sweet  promises  of  the  gospel ; 
but  they  had  fallen  on  her  ears  unheeded.    Busy  with 
earthly  pleasures  and  pursuits,  she  had  neither  time  nor 

inclination  to  listen  to  the  Voice  that  pleaded  with  her. 

197 


J        wh, 


108 


vv.\i;n;u  iiaulkyh  ci)Nqi;>>)T. 


But  now,  wlien  health  wiw  ffmv,  whoii  all  the«o  ^i»yo- 
ticH  cpaMcd  to  phifo,  Flora  lu'^'aii  to  fwl  that  achiiii^ 
void  whicli  all  th<wo  who  Heck  tlicir  Hati.Hfactioii  in  this 
world  iiiii-'t  ox|ii!rit'nt'o,  woor.or  or  later.  From  her  lather 
and  mother  hIu;  knew  siio  eould  receive  no  helji.  They 
knew  nothing  of  vital  religion.  Were  Hho  to  npeak  to 
them  conecrning  her  feelings,  they  wouhl  only  think  her 
morbid  and  depresfied,  and  send  in  haste  to  the  doetor  for 
u  tonie,  or  try  some  new  diversion.  Her  friends  and  as- 
sociates were  all  gay  and  worldly.  Instinctively  her 
thoughts  turned  to  Elmwood.  8ho  felt  sure  >[r.  and 
Mrs.  llarley  were  Christians.  They  could  lielp  her;  she 
might  there  lind  the  rest  she  was  seeking.  Her  parents 
hud  planned  to  take  her  to  u  fashionable  watering  place, 
and  were  nmeh  disappointed  to  find  her  mind  set  on  going 
to  Elmwood ;  hut  aa  they  always  gratified  her  every 
whin),  they  yielded,  and  wrote  the  letter  which  hod  tilled 
Walter  with  such  rueful  anticipations. 

When,  however,  one  glorious  day  in  early  June,  the 
carriage  drove  up  to  the  door,  and  Walter  noticed,  as 
Flora  alighted,  how  pale  and  thin  fclie  looked,  ho  felt 
really  sorry  for  her,  and  ready  to  do  his  lest  to  make  her 
visit  as  pleasant  as  possible.  He  tried  to  remember  that 
there  was  an  iuvalid  in  the  house,  and  moved  about 
gently. 


KHT. 

I  all  tlicMc  f^ayo- 
oi'l  tliiit  acliiri)^ 
tintactioii  in  tlii.<i 
b'roiii  her  futliur 
iio  lii'lp.    Tlioy 

hIiu  to  H[)i>ak  to 
1  only  tliiiik  lior 
to  tlio  doctor  for 

IVieruli  and  ait- 
nstinctivt'ly  her 
.  auto  ^[r.  and 
Id  help  licr  ;  slio 
,'.     Ilor  parentH 

watering  place, 
ind  Hct  on  going 

iiied  her  every 
which  hod  filled 

early  June,  tho 
alter  noticed,  as 

looked,  ho  felt 
jest  to  make  her 
a  romeiuher  that 
d  moved  about 


WAi.TKU  iiAUi.EYH  ro^•qlr^>^•r. 


109 


Flora  felt  fatigued  after  her  journey,  ami  kept  her 
room  for  a  day  or  two.  Walter  wan  just  a8  well  pleased; 
for  ho  had  an  iilca,  wiiich  perhaps  was  not  wholly  in- 
correct, that  his  cousin  thongiil  Ixtys  in  general  trouhlo- 
8ome  beings  who  had  to  he  tolerated,  hut  who  were  very 
much  in  the  way,  nevertheless.  Con-secpiently  he  felt  shy 
and  awkward  in  her  presence. 

Afk'r  a  few  days  I'lora  began  to  feel  much  stronger, 
and  Walter  saw  more  of  her.  One  evening,  about  a 
week  after  her  arrival,  they  were  both  sitting  in  tho 
drawing  room.  Flora  in  an  easy  chair,  doing  nothing 
and  looking  rather  miserable  ;  Walter  by  tho  window, 
reading,  with  an  uncomfortal)le  feeling  that  ho  ought  to 
try  and  make  things  agreeable  for  his  cousin,  yet  not 
knowing  how  to  set  about  :'t.  Just  then  his  mother  called 
him  out  of  the  room,  professedly  to  help  her  about  some- 
thing ;  but  her  real  motive  soon  api)eared  when  she  said, 
in  a  low  voice: 

"Could  you  not  show  Flora  those  new  engravings, 

dear?   She  looks  dull,  and  perhaps  it  would  cheer  her  up." 

"  I  am  willing,  mother ;  but  she  is  sick  so  much  of  the 

time,  I  thought  perhaps  it  would  only  bother  her  to  look 

at  anything." 

"  She  is  feeling  pretty  well  to-night,  and  I  think  she 
might  enjoy  it." 


ill' 


•1 


.iMli 


i;;! 


110  WALTER    HAULEY's   COXQITEST. 

"  I  always  used  to  think,  when  she  was  here  before, 
that  slie  did  not  care  to  Lave  me  around.  She  could  look 
at  the  pictures  herself,  couldn't  she  ?  " 

"  Siie  would  be  more  inccrested,  I  am  sure,  if  you  were 
to  look  at  ther;.  and  talk  about  them  with  her.  Prob- 
ably it  was  only  a  fancy  on  your  part  that  she  disliked 
your  company  when  she  was  here  before.  At  any  rate, 
you  were  only  a  boy  then ;  you  are  more  manly  now,  and 
have  your  share  to  bear  in  the  entertainment  of  all  visit- 
ors. Come,"— as  Walter  still  lingered  reluctantly,—"  you 
could  easily  do  it  if  it  were  Mary  Harrington  ;  and  you 
must  not  allow  your  likes  or  dislikes  to  govern  you  in 
your  intercourse  with  others." 

This  was  enough.  AValter  started  for  the  drawing  room. 
"  I  suppose  she  will  be  indifferent  about  it ;  she  generally 
is  about  everything,"  he  thought.  It  was  such  a  simple 
thing  to  do,  and  yet  he  was  conscious  of  making  a  pain- 
ful effort,  when  he  said,  somewhat  stiffly : 

"  Would  you  like  to  see  these  new  engravings,  Cousin 
Flora?"  ; 

She  responded  very  heartily,  however. 

"  Yes,  indeed,  I  should.  Your  father  said  I  must  look 
at  them  Avhen  I  felt  well  enough." 

Walter  drew  up  a  small  table,  and  opened  the  port- 
folio.    Then  Carrie  stole  in. 


[UEST. 

was  here  before, 
i.    She  could  look 

1  sure,  if  you  were 
with  her.  Prob- 
t  that  she  disliiicd 
jre.  At  any  rate, 
re  manly  now,  and 
nment  of  all  visit- 
■eluctantly, — "  you 
rington ;  and  you 
to  govern  you  in 

the  drawing  room, 
t  it ;  she  generally 
was  such  a  simple 
»f  making  a  pain- 

mgravings,  Cousin 

t 

>r. 

sr  said  I  must  look 

1  opened  the  port- 


WALTER    HAULEY'S   CONQUEST. 


Ill 


"  Come,  Carrie,  here  is  a  place  for  you,"  said  Flora. 
"  Bring  your  favorite  little  stool,  and  look  at  these  pictures 

with  us." 

Flora  was  very  fond  of  the  gentle  little  girl,  and  Carrie 
was  equally  fond  of  her.  Carrie,  by  her  lively,  childlike 
interest  in  the  pictures,  and  wise  little  remarks  about 
them,  very  much  helped  both  parties  to  be  social.  When 
at  length  they  had  finished  looking  at  tliem,  and  laid 
them  aside,  Carrie  said : 

"Flora,  you  play  on  the  pinno,  don't  you?" 

"  I  used  to,  dear ;  but  I  have  not  played  anything  for  a 
long  time." 

" Oh,  do  to-night,  wont  you ? "  pleaded  Carrie. 

"Yes,  do,"  urged  Walter.  "I  am  so  fond  of  music.  I 
make  Lina  play  all  the  evening  when  she  comes.'' 

So  Flora  yielded.  She  thought  she  could  scarcely  play 
anything ;  but  the  half-forgotten  melodies  came  back  to 
mind  as  her  fingers  ran  over  the  keys.  She  was  really  an 
accomplished  player,  and  in  younger  days  had  taken 
more  interest  in  music  than  in  any  other  study  ;  and  now 
she  charmed  her  listeners  with  many  light,  lively  airs. 
When  at  length  she  declared  she  could  remember  nothing 
more,  Carrie  said : 

"  Now,  Walter,  won't  you  play  and  whij^tle,  '  The  Mock- 
ing Bird'?" 


i 


na  WALTER    barley's  CONQUEST. 

"Oh,   no,   Carrie,"    said  Walter,  growing   suddenly 

bashful. 

"  I  wish  you  would,"  said  Flora;  "  you  ought  to  do  your 

share.     I  am  sure  I  have  done  mine." 

Carrie  also  continued  to  plead,  so  finally  Walter  sat 
down  to  the  piano.  When  he  had  finished  "  The  Mock- 
ing Bird,"  Carrie  thought  of  something  else— a  comic 
Bong-she  wanted  him  to  sing;  and  Flora  laughed  more 
heartily  than  Walter  had  ever  known  her  to  do.  Just 
then  Mre.  Harley  entered  the  room. 

"  You  are  enjoying  yourselves,  I  sec,"'  she  said,  smilingly. 

"Oh,  yes,"  said  Flora.    "I  have  spent  a  delightful 

evening." 

"  Why,  Carrie,  my  dear,  are  you  not  in  bed?  "  said  her 
mother.    "  I  was  busy,  and  had  quite  forgotten  you." 

"  I  am  so  glad  you  did,  mamma." 

"What!  ten  o'clock?"  said  Flora,  looking  at  her 
watch.    "  How  quickly  the  evening  has  passed ! " 

From  that  time  the  barrier  of  reserve  between  Walter 
and  his  cousin  was  broken  down.  She  seldom  was  well 
enough  to  spend  so  social  an  evening  as  that,  but  she  took 
a  far  more  lively  interest  than  formerly  in  everything 
Walter  said  or  did.  Walter  was  growing  by  degrees 
very  thoughtful.  It  was  becoming  quite  natural  to  him 
to  close  a  door  gently,  or  lower  a  blind  when  the  light 


1 

I 


-»»^ 


[JEST. 

rowing   suddenly 

I  ought  to  do  your 

nally  Walter  sat 
hed  "  The  Mock- 
ig  else — a  comic 
)ra  laughed  more 
her  to  do.    Just 

she  said,  smilingly, 
spent  a  delightful 

in  hed?"  said  her 
brgotten  you." 

i,  looking  at  her 
s  passed ! " 
fc  between  Walter 
,e  seldom  was  well 
3  that,  but  she  took 
erly  in  everything 
owing  by  degrees 
jitc  natural  to  him 
ind  when  the  light 


WAT-TEU    HARLEYS   COXQUKST. 


113 


was  too  strong,  or  close  a  window  after  sunset,  or  arrange 
cushions  and  shawls  wlien  Flora  sat  on  the  veranda  or 
the  lawn. 

"  I  took  Flora  out  for  a  walk  yesterday,  Lina,"  said 
Walter,  one  Sunday,  when  relating  his  experiences.  "  I 
never  walked  so  slowly  in  all  my  life.  We  went  as  far  aa 
the  gate  and  back,  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  altogether, 
I  suppose,  and  honestly,  I  was  more  tired  than  if  I  had 
walked  three  miles.  I  thought  if  she  walked  a  little  faster 
she  would  not  be  so  fatigued  ;  but  if  I  quickened  my  pace 
ever  so  little,  she  would  say,  '  Please,  Walter,  walk  a  little 
slower.'  It  must  be  dreadful  to  creep  along  at  such  a 
snail's  pace  all  the  time." 

"  No  doubt  it  must  be,"  said  Lina.  "  We  ought  to  be 
thankful  that  we  are  so  strong  and  well." 

Walter  was  encouraged  in  his  good  endeavors  when  his 
mother  said  to  him  one  day : 

"  Flora  says  the  brightest  bit  of  the  day  is  when  you 
come  home  from  school.  That  is  as  it  should  be,"  she 
added  ;  "  we  all  like  a  sunny  face,  and  a  cheerful  word, 
but  to  invalids  it  is  especially  cheering." 

The  weeks  rolled  rapidly  by,  and  vacation  drew  near. 
The  last  week  of  school  had  come,  and  every  morning 
the  boys  eagerly  scanned  the  slips  of  paper  i)inned  on  the 
wall  announcing  the  results  of  the  examinations  in  the 


n^ 


ill 


liiiyii 


^''lii 


II 


I 


m ' 

m 


114  WAI.TEB    HARLEY'S  CONQUEST. 

different  branches.  Of  course,  some  were  careless  about 
their  standing.  They  expected  to  be  at  the  foot  of  the 
class,  and  their  expectations  were  realized ;  and  tlie  fact 
that  they  would  just  as  soon  occupy  that  place  as  not  was 
to  their  teachers  a  most  unpron)ising  sign.  But  the 
majority  were  quite  anxious  to  know  whether  they  had 
earned  good  marks  or  not. 

The  essays  had  been  handed  in  and  sent  away  to  the 
judges,  and  their  decision  was  awaited  with  great  anxiety 
on  the  part  of  those  who  had  competed  for  the  prize.  The 
day  immediately  preceding  the  public  examination  came, 
and  at  the  close  of  school  all  waited  in  breathless 
silence  to  hear  the  important  announcement. 

"  The  essays,"  Mr.  Harrison  said,  "  were  all  of  a  high 
order ;  but  there  was  one  deserving  of  especial  mention, 
and  showing  exceptional  talent.  When  I  mention  the 
name  of  the  writer,  I  am  sure  you  will  all  agree  with  me 
that  no  one  is  more  deserving  than  he,  and  I  know 
you  are  ail  generous  enough  to  be  glad  at  \m  success, 
even  though  you  personally  may  be  disappointed.  Tho 
successful  competitor  is  Bennie  Harris." 

The  announcement  was  followed  by  deafening  applause. 
When  order  was  restored,  Mr.  Harrison,  in  a  few  kindly 
words,  congratulated  the  sue  ■  <^sful  y^ung  essayist. 
As  for  Bennie,  he  felt  like  one  in  a  dream.    For  a  few 


TEST. 

re  careless  about 
t  the  foot  of  the 
cd;  and  the  fact 
place  as  not  waa 
sign.  But  the 
whether  they  had 

sent  away  to  the 
ritli  great  anxiety 
)r  the  prize.  The 
xaniiiuition  came, 
;ed  in  breathless 
nent. 
were  all  of  a  high 

especial  mention, 
en  I  mention  the 

all  agree  with  me 

he,  and  I  know 

lad  at  his  success, 

lisappointed.    The 

leafening  applause, 
n,  in  a  few  kindly 
mg  essayist, 
dream.    For  a  few 


J 


1 


WALTER    IIAUUKYS   CONQUEST. 


115 


moments  everything  whirled  around  liiiw,  and  the  voices 
sounded  very  far  away ;  but  by  the  time  school  was  dis- 
n)is.^cd,  he  had  sufficiently  recovered  himself  to  respond 
to  the  congratulations  showered  upon  liir.i. 

Bennie  was  a  general  favorite,  and  every  one  was  sin- 
cerely glad  that  he  had  won,  especially  since  it  was  well 
known  tliat  the  money  would  be  very  acceptal)le  to  him. 
Walter  felt  more  pleased  than  ho  could  tell  any  one ; 
and  as  he  looked  at  Bcnnie's  happy  face  and  shining 
eyes,  and  realized  how  much  the  })rize  meant  to  him,  lie 
felt  as  tiiough  any  sacrifice  he  had  made  was  notliing. 

The  public  examination  came,  and  the  boys  ac(piittcd 
themselves  well.  The  awarding  of  tlie  j)rizes  was  pcriiaps 
the  most  interesting  part  to  the  visitors,  the  nuijority  of 
whom  found  Latin  and  Greek,  Quadratics  and  Loga- 
rithms rather  dry.  Arthur  Somers  received  a  valual)Ie 
prize  of  books  for  excellence  in  English  studios ;  Ned 
Brookes  gained  the  mathematical  prize;  Walter  was  the 
winner  of  the  classical  medal,  in  tlie  competition  for  which 
he  was  closely  followed  by  Arthur  Somers ;  while  Bennio 
received  his  prize  in  bright  gold  piecses. 


.^;¥ 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

DAYS   AT   FAIBHAVEN. 

THE  Sunday  following  was  a  bright,  warm  day,  but 
Mr.  Harrison's  boys  were  all  in  their  places  at 
Sunday-school,  for  this  was  the  last  Sunday  their  teacher 
would  be  with  them  for  seven  or  eight  weeks,  as  he 
always  spent  his  vacation  away  from  Knowlton.  To-<lay 
Mr.  Harrison  did  not  spend  as  nnich  time  as  usual  on 
the  lesson,  for  he  saw  that  the  boys  were  full  of  their 
I)lans  for  the  holidays,  and  he  wished  to  speak  a  few 
words  about  the  right  use  of  their  leisure  time;  so  he 

said: 

"  I  suppose  you  are  all  looking  forward  to  spcndmg  a 

part,  at  least,  of  your  holidays  away  from  home." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  was  the  answer. 

"  Well,  I  want  you  to  think  that  wherever  yon  are, 
God  has  a  work  for  you  to  do,  and  I  hope  you  will  do  it." 

"Why  what  can  we  do,  sir?"  said  Charlie  Somers. 
"  We  cannot  hold  preaching  services." 

"  No,  hardly,"  replied  Mr.  Harrison,  smiling ;  "  but 
good  may  be  done  without  preaching.  Many  of  you  will 
spend  your  holidays  in  out-of-the-way  country  places, 
116 


^.* * 


-r^ 


m  day,  but 
r  places  at 
beir  teacher 
ccks,  as  he 
)n.  To-(hiy 
as  usual  on 
ull  of  their 
peak  a  few 
time ;  so  ho 

)  spending  a 
rae." 

trcr  you  are, 
u  will  do  it." 
irlie  Somers. 

liling;  "but 
y  of  you  will 
uutry  places, 


WALT£R    IIAni^EY's   CONQUEST. 


117 


where  the  churches  arc  feeble  and  struggling.  Do  not 
excuse  yourselves  from  attendance  because  tiie  preaching 
is  not  so  good  as  that  to  which  you  are  accustomed.  Do 
not  neglect  the  prayer  meeting,  if  there  is  one,  because 
you  are  away  from  home ;  but  go,  and  say  a  word  to  show 
that  you  are  on  the  Lord's  side,  and  you  may  cheer  the 
heart  of  some  lonely  pastor.  Perhaps  you  nuiy  find 
something  to  do  in  a  Sunday-school.  Be  ready  to  lend  a 
helping  hand."' 

Ned  Brookes  heaved  a  long  sigh. 

"  What  is  the  matter,  Ned  ?  " 

"  Why,  Mr.  Harrison,  you  are  cutting  out  ,such  a 
lot  of  work  for  us  to  do,  that  it  makes  me  tired  to 
think  of  it." 

"  Why,  is  it  more  than  a  Christian  expects  to  do  at 
home  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Ned,  hesitatingly,  "  but  then  when  a  fellow 
goes  away  he  expects  to  take  things  easy,  and  do  nothing. 
Everybody  does  in  ihe  hot  weather." 

"  But,"  returned  Mr.  Harrison,  gravely,  "  do  you  think 
that  a  Christian's  spiritual  life  is  the  better  for  taking 
things  easy,  and  doing  nothing,  particularly  when  he  is 
not  an  invalid,  but  a  strong,  healthy  youth?  The 
Christian  soldier  should  be  always  on  duty.  Some  of 
you  may  visit  in  cities,  perhaps  among  worldly  friends. 


'    i 


.^-JL 


118  WAT.TEU    IIARLEy's   CONQTTKST. 

Stand  by  your  colors,  and  be  alwayn,  cvcrywbcre,  true  to 
Jesus.  One  word  more  for  you  all.  Kcop  )'"">'  <^>'<^8 
open,  and  use  every  opi-ortunity  to  be  belpl'ul  to  others, 
and  carry  sunshine  with  you  wherever  you  go.  Now 
how  many  of  you  will  try  to  fill  these  holiday  hours  with 
service  for  Christ,  in  some  way  or  other? " 

Several  hands  went  up.    Ned's  was  not  among  them. 

"  What!  undecided,  Ned?"  said  Mr.  Harrison,  with  a 

kindly  smile. 

"  I  do  not  like  to  make  promises  when  I  think  I  am 
almost  sure  to  break  them,"  said  Ned. 

"  Well,  Ned,  there  is  somethinj?  in  that.     We  arc  all 
liable  to  break  our  good  resolutions,  unless  they  have 
been  made  in  dependence  on  One  stronger  than  we;  yet 
remember,  'I  can  do  all  things  through  Christ  which 
strengtheneth  me.'     And  then  I  only  asked  you  to /ry     I 
fear,"  he  added,  "  that  some  of  you  arc  not  prepared  to 
do  Christian  work  in  these  holidays.     You  have  need  of 
the  Saviour  first.     Do  not  let  these  leisure  hours  pa.s9 
:    away  without    seeking  Christ.    He  will    certainly   be 
found  of  those  who  seek  him,  and  then  how  full  of  bless- 
ing these  coming  weeks  will  be  to  you." 

After  the  close  of  Sunday-school,  Charlie  Somers,  Ned 
Brookes,  and  Walter  found  themselves  together,  and  as 
they  sauntered  alcng  in  company,  Charlie  said : 


; 


ere,  true  to 
I  your  cyca 
il  to  otluTH, 
1  po.  Now 
hours  with 

nion<»  them, 
•ison,  with  a 

:  think  I  am 

We  are  all 

!s  thpy  have 
iian  we ;  yet 
Dhrist  which 
rou  to  try  I 
t  prepared  to 
have  need  of 
re  hours  pass 
certainly  be 
full  of  blcss- 

Somers,  Ned 
Tether,  and  as 
aid: 


WALTER    IIAnLEY's   COKQUEST. 


119 


"  I  never  thous^lit  before  of  doing  good  when  I  went" 
away.     I  always  su|ii)o.sod  I  went  away  to  reeeite  giioil. 
I  never  tiiouglit  nuicli  about  it,  to  sa/  the  truth. 

"  You  don't  catch  mo  running  around,  and  looking  up 
prayer  meetings  and  Sunday-scliools  in  tiiis  hot  wcatiicr,' 
put  in  Ned  Brookea.  "  It  is  all  well  enough  for  Mr. 
Harrison,  if  he  liltes ;  but  for  my  part,  I  liiio  a  holid.ly 
from  everytiiing  when  I  go  away.  Then  what  is  the  use 
of  wearing  ones  self  out  helping  others.  I  go  in  for 
having  a  good  time." 

"  Porliaps  you  might  find  your  g  od  time  in  that  way," 
suggested  Walter. 

"  I  can't  see  it.  I  am  going  on  a  fishing  trip  first,  any- 
way, and  I  don't  suppose  I  can  do  much  good  then. 
Well,  I  suppose  I'll  see  you  .-"jain  before  I  go."  And  Ned 
turned  down  a  side  street  toward  his  home. 

"  Ned  doesn't  talk  like  a  very  earnest  Christian,"  said 
Walter. 

"  The  set  he  goes  with  don't  help  him  much,"  returned 
Charlie  Somers. 

"  Who  are  they  ?  " 

"  Oh,  Sam  Lewis,  and  '  Tip '  Johnson,  and  that  young 
Slocum." 

"  I  wonder  that  Ned  keeps  company  with  them." 

"  Well,  you  see  they  make  a  good  deal  of  him.     He 


;  iil 


120 


WAI-TKB    HARLEY's   CONQUEST. 


told  fiithcr  ho  thought  the  boys  in  the  church  were  Htifl' 
and  unitociublo." 

"  I  don't  think  we  arc  stitFat  all,"  said  Walter.  "  He 
ia  a  hard  fellow  to  get  along  with ;  for  my  part,  I  do  not 
understand  him." 

"  There  is  considerable  good  in  him,  if  we  only  knew 
how  to  bring  it  out,"  said  Arthur  Somers,  who  had  joined 
them  while  Walter  was  speaking. 

"  It  is  hard  to  bring  it  out,  then.  I  get  quite  out  of 
patience  with  him.     I  fancy  he  doesn't  like  me,  anyway." 

"  I  would  not  think  that,  Walter,"  said  Arthur,  quickly. 
"  You  will  never  understand  him  if  you  do.  Perhaps  if 
we  only  tried  to  luiderstand  him,  and  like  him,  ho  would 
be  more  influenced  by  us." 

"  I  am  sure  ho  does  not  know  what  we  think  of  him, 
80  that  cannot  be  the  barrier  between  us,"  returned 

Walter. 

"  How  do  you  know  he  doesn't  ?  "  said  Arthur.  "  I 
think  people  instinctively  know  whether  wo  like  them  or 
not.  We  show  our  feelings  a  great  deal  more  than  we 
imagine." 

"  I  do  not  know  what  is  going  to  be  done  about  it, "  said 
Walter.     "  I  am  sure  I  cannot  feel  differently." 

Here  the  matter  dropped.  Walter's  tlioughts  returned 
to  it  later,  after  his  two  friends  had  left  him.    Was  it 


i 


,. 


"WW.  l|"Ji  ■ 


h  were  Htirt' 

Iter.     "lit! 
rt,  I  du  not 

only  knew 
I  luiilj<)ine<l 

initc  out  of 
e,  anyway." 
lur,  qiiifkly. 
Pcrhaprt  if 
in,  ho  would 

link  of  him, 
!,"  returned 

\.rthur.  "  I 
like  them  or 
lore  than  we 

bout  it,"'  said 

y." 

flits  returned 
lim.    Was  it 


i 


I 
I 


WAI.TEn    IIAHLEY  8   CONQUEST. 


121 


hi.s  duty  to  like  itcople  who  were  so  uncongenial  a»  Nt-d 
^  Brookes?  "  Ned  would  rather  go  with  tlione  fellows  :  they 
are  more  akin  to  him,"  Walter  said  to  himself.  Hut  though, 
for  the  time  hcing,  he  dismissed  the  nmtter  thus  lightly, 
eonseience  had  been  awakened,  and  would  not  let  him  otf 
80  easily.  He  began  to  have  a  dim  notion  that  he  ought 
to  try  and  understand  Ned,  and  so  place  himself  in  a  posi- 
tion to  influence  him  ;  and  tiiough  he  often  said  to  him- 
self,  "  I  cannot  fool  any  diirereiitly,"  tiiere  came  inter- 
mingled with  this  thought  that  other  thought,  "  '  I  can 
do  all  things  through  Christ,  which  strengthenetli  me.' " 

Walter  and  Ned  were  so  opposite  in  disposition,  and 
had  been  so  differently  brought  up,  that  they  seemed  to 
have  nothing  in  common.  It  was  difficult  for  them  to 
ajijjreciate  one  anuther's  good  points ;  and  thus  there 
came  a  coolness  between  them,  which  was  founded  more 
upon  what  each  fancied  the  other  thought  of  him  than 
upon  any  real  grievance. 

But  the  prospect  of  a  visit  to  Uncle  George,  and 
preparations  for  it,  drove  all  thoughts  of  Ned  Brookes 
for  a  time  out  of  Walter's  mind. 

Uncle  George  was  Mr.  Harley's  younger  brotlier.  Ho 
had  been  an  ordained  minister  for  three  years,  and  had 
the  charge  of  a  small  church  in  the  little  seaport  town 
of  Fairhaven.     He  had  supplied  the  church  there  during 


t  f 


f.   )l 


Llill 


pnoiHMiBip^ 


122 


WAI/lKll    IIAUt.KY'H   CONtiPFXr, 


liirt  vanitioiis,  wliilc  iiri-parini,'  for  tlio  ministry.  JIu  wiw 
Itltwcil,  ami  ('iiai)l(Ml  to  liiiild  up  tliu  tWililu  cause,  llo 
j;rcw  HO  interested  in  the  work  tiuit,  when  liiti  term  of 
Htudy  wan  ended,  lie  accepted  tho  call  to  HOttle  tiiero,  in 
]ireterenco  to  one  from  ii  largo  church  in  a  nei},'lil)oring 
city.  He  wan  iu  a  hetter  jMwitictn  to  do  so  than  somo 
would  have  been,  as  ho  derived  sufiieient  income  from 
property  leflt,  him  Ity  his  mother  to  nuiko  him  in  a  meiwuro 
independent  of  the  snuill  salary  which  tho  church  offered 
him. 

Cjoorj^e  Ilarli'y  was  a  singularly  unworldly  man.  IIo 
was  jierfectly  contented  to  laI)or  iu  this  small  place,  to 
live  simply  and  jjlainly,  to  miss  much  of  what  is  called 
society,  if  oidy  he  miglit  servo  tho  Master,  and  do  the 
work  committed  to  him. 

Walter  was  very  fond  of  Uncle  George,  and  he  used 
to  look  forward  eagerly  to  tlie  (  NrLstmas  and  Easter  holi- 
days, which  his  uncle  always  s'-ent  at  Elmwood.  He  waa 
indeed  a  most  interesting  companion.  Ho  liad  always  a 
fund  of  stories  to  beguile  the  twilight  hours.  In  the  day 
time  he  would  take  long  walks  with  Walter;  and,, being 
very  observant,  and  an  ardent  student  of  nature,  he  could 
alway.s  make  these  rambles  full  of  interest  and  instruction. 
He  used  to  visit  the  workshop  in  the  attic,  and  waa  equally 
at  home  making  a  boat  for  Walter,  or  a  doU'a  chair  for 


_,_    JL- 


jr. I.I  If 


y.  ilo  wiiH 
ctuisi-.  llo 
liiti  term  of 
til!  there,  in 
iit>i;,'lil)()riiig 
timii  Hoiiiu 
iconic  from 
n  a  nieniiuro 
urcli  offered 

man.  Ho 
ill  pliice,  to 
at  is  calhMl 
aud  do  the 

nd  hu  used 
Easter  lioli- 
•d.  He  was 
d  always  a 
In  the  day 
and,,  being 
re,  he  could 
instruction, 
was  equally 
s  chair  for 


WAI-TKn   IIARLKY'h  OONtiJII-XI'. 


123 


Carri<'.  In  tlio  winter  oveningH  he  wm  nlwayn  ready  to 
jday  jfanict*;  and,  indi-cd,  wiicn  ynun;,'  fritiids  canic  to 
H[H'nd  tliocvenin;^',  Unclu  Guor^'o  was  in  constant  <li'niiind. 

Ilatiier  more  tiuui  a  year  liuforc,  (}eorf,'c  Harlcy  had 
brou^'iit  homo  a  wife  to  the  par.'^onagc  at  Fairluivcn,  and 
they  sent  a  pressing  invitation  to  tiieir  relations  at  Elm- 
wood  to  visit  tiieni  in  tiieir  cosy  home.  Walter's  fatlier 
and  mother  had  gone  the  previous  summer,  and  now  he 
was  to  have  his  long-{)romiscd  visit. 

His  sister  Carrie  was  to  spend  iier  holidays  with  her 
father's  two  maiden  aunts.  Mr.  Ilarlcy  planned  to 
accompany  his  little  daugliter,  and  stay  foi-  a  day  or 
two  at  the  old  homestead  where  he  had  passed  the  days 
of  his  boyiiood;  for  these  two  aunts  had  broi';jht  him 
up,  his  mother  having  died  when  ho  was  yet  a  child. 
■  Walter,  on  his  return  from  Fairiiaven,  was  to  sjjcnd  a 
few  days  with  these  aunts,  and  accompany  his  little  sister 
home.  This  suited  Walter  very  well.  The  place  was 
altogether  too  quiet  for  him,  and  he  always  tired  of  it 
after  a  few  days.  To  Carrie,  on  the  other  hand,  the  old- 
fashioned  house,  with  its  quaint  furniture,  and  queer 
little  nooks  and  crannies,  was  delightful.  She  had  her 
favorite  seat  in  the  garden — an  old-fashioned  garden  it 
■was  too,  tvith  tall  hollyhocks,  and  blue  lupins,  and  twining 
convolvulus,  and  sunny  marigolds.    She  knew  the  apple 


\\i 


~^  J- 


124 


WALTER    HARLEY's   C0>"QUEST. 


tree  in  the  orchard  where  the  robin  built  its  nest,  and 
the  spot  where  the  prettiest  wild  flowers  grew.  On  rainy- 
days  she  would  sit  at  the  little  casement  window  in  the 
attic,  and  listen  to  the  rain  pattering;  on  the  roof.  Ah  ! 
yes;  it  was  just  the  place  that  a  dreamy  child  would  de- 
light in.  Carrie  too  was  very  fond  of  her  aunts,  and 
did  not  object  to  tlieir  precise  ways ;  and  they,  in  turn, 
lavished  a  wealth  of  affection  on  her ;  for  was  she  not 
the  child  of  their  favorite  nephew  ?  Indeed,  they  took  it 
as  quite  a  hardship  if  they  did  not  see  both  "Walter  and 
Carrie  at  least  once  a  year. 

The  day  at  leugth  came  when  Walter  was  to  start  on 
his  holiday,  and  he  took  his  place  in  the  train  with  quite 
a  feeling  of  importance ;  for  this  was  his  first  journey 
alone.  He  looked  forward  also  with  much  interest  to  the 
end  of  his  journey;  for  he  had  never  seen  Fairhaven, 
and  there  is  always  a  charm  in  novelty.  It  was  about 
two  o'clock  when  the  train  left  Kuowlton.  After  a  rapid 
ride  of  two  hours,  Perley  Junction  was  reached,  where 
Walter  had  to  change  cars.  The  car  he  now  entered  was 
poor  and  uncomfortable,  compared  with  the  soft-cush- 
ioned, easy-running  one  he  had  just  left.  The  scenery 
too  was  uninteresting ;  and  the  train  went  at  such  a  slow 
rate  that  Walter  was  quite  out  of  patience.  But  at 
length  the  swampy  lowlands  began  to  give  place  to  hills, 


its  nest,  and 
!W.  On  rainy 
ifindow  in  the 
he  roof.  Ah ! 
ild  would  de- 
ler  aunts,  and 
they,  in  turn, 
•r  was  she  not 
d,  they  took  it 
1  Walter  and 

^as  to  start  on 
lin  with  quite 
1  first  journey 
interest  to  the 
iu  Fairhaven, 

It  was  about 
After  a  rapid 
cached,  where 
w  entered  was 
the  soft-cush- 

The  scenery 
at  such  a  slow 
nee.  But  at 
place  to  hills, 


WALTER    HARI.EY's   CONQUEST. 


125 


"*mmmm0*.*.Mi*^mii! 


and  Walter  knew  he  must  be  drawing  near  his  destina- 
tion. Then  he  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  beautiful  blue 
ocean.  A  few  minutes  more,  and  the  train  stopped  at 
the  Fairhaven  Station ;  and  there  was  Uncle  George, 
waiting  on  the  platform. 

"  Well,  Walter,  my  boy,  I  am  glad  to  see  you,"  he 
said,  giving  his  nejihew  a  hearty  hand-grasp.  "  This  is 
all  your  baggage,  is  it?"'  picking  up  a  valise.  "Then 
follow  me,  this  way."  And  they  passed  quickly  by  the 
loungers  who  are  apt  to  be  about  a  railroad  platform, 
and  were  soon  walking  rapidly  along  the  main  street. 

Presently  they  turned  up  a  side  street,  quiet  and  coun- 
try looking,  with  grass  growing  on  either  side.  It  was  up 
hill  all  the  way  now ;  and  Walter  had  hard  wcrk  to  keep 
up  with  his  uncle's  rapid  strides.  : 

"  There  is  my  church,  Walter,"  said  his  uncle,  pointing 
to  a  neat,  unpretentious  building  a  little  farther  up  the 
hill ;  "  and  the  parsonage  is  close  by  it.  You  see  we  live 
on  the  heights,  and  have  a  fine  view.  There,  now  turn 
and  look.     Doesn't  that  repay  o:?'>  for  the  climb?" 

Walter  did  a-s  he  was  bidden.  "  Yes,  indeed  it  docs," 
he  exclaimed. 

Beneath  them,  on  the  side  of  the  hill,  and  clustering 
about  its  base,  were  the  white  houses  of  Fairhaven.  Be- 
yond, the  eye  wandered  over  the  bay, — its  blue  waters 


3  ^'  m 
H  m 


m 


126 


WALTER    IIARLEY's  CX).\QUES'r. 


dotted  here  and  there  with  snowy  white  sails,— and  away 
out  ftirther  still,  to  where  ocean  and  sky  seemed  blended 
in  one.  Over  all,  the  setting  sun  threw  its  glory.  Its 
rays  tinged  the  white  houses  with  a  ruddy  hue  ;  threw  a 
warm  glow  over  the  rocky  ledges  that  stretched  far  out 
on  either  side  of  the  bay ;  gleamed  on  a  distant  cottage 
window,  till  it  shone  like  a  radiant  star ;  touched  the 
weatiier-beaten  sails  of  tiie  fishing  bop^j,  and  made  them 
look  like  fair,  white  wings. 

•  They  paused  for  a  few  moments,  to  take  in  the  quiet 
beauty  of  that  evening  scene,  and  then  Uncle  George 
said  :  "  We  must  not  stop  longer,  Walter.  It  is  growing 
chilly.  You  will  have  plenty  of  opportunities  to  see 
Fairhaven  by  sunrise  and  sunset,  and  by  the  '  pale  moon- 
light.' So  we  will  hurry  on ;  for  you  must  be  quite  ready 
for  tea  by  tliis  time." 

They  turned  now  into  a  road  leading  along  the  heights. 
The  sun  had  sunk  beneath  the  horizon ;  and  the  glory 
had  faded  from  the  scene,  leaving  it  cold  and  gray. 

"  How  different  the  same  things  look  now  the  sun  has 
gone !  "  exclaimed  Walter. 

"  Yes,"  replied  his  uncle.  "I  could  not  help  thinking, 
while  looking  on  it,  that  just  so  dull  and  cheerless  is  lift 
without  the  Lord  Jesus." 

They  were  at  the  parsonage  gate  now ;  and  his  uncle 


'■>y.".'«BiH"Jgi,-ff^  ,'^"-f  j;jl!Ai.U!jJMJ'  - 


i 


8, — and  away 
imed  blended 
3  glory.  Its 
liue ;  threw  a 
tolled  far  out 
slant  cottage 
touched  the 
1  made  them 

3  in  the  quiet 
ncle  George 
It  is  growing 
nitics  to  see 
'  pale  moon- 
3  quite  ready 

f  the  heights, 
nd  the  glory 
I  gray, 
the  sun  has 

Ip  thinkin/^, 
erless  is  lift 

d  his  uncle 


WALTER    HARLEY'S   CONQUEST. 


127 


turned  the  latch,  and  Walter  followed  him  up  the  gravel 
walk  that  led  to  the  door.  The  house  was  low,  with 
wide  windows  on  either  side  of  the  door.  At  that  Mrs. 
Harlcy  was  standing  to  welcome  them.  Walter  did 
not  need  to  be  introduced  to  Aunt  Jessie ;  for  she  and 
Uncle  George  had  spent  a  few  days  at  Elmwood  on 
their  wedding  trip.  He  had  yet,  however,  to  become 
acquainted  with  little  Paul,  the  three-month's-old  son 
and  heir.  He  could  not  have  this  pleasure  that  evening, 
however,  as,  like  a  good  orthodox  baby,  he  was  fast 
asleep. 

Aunt  Jessie  showed  Walter  up  to  the  spare  bedroom. 
It  was  a  pleasant  room,  very  neatly  furnished;  and 
he  was  very  glad  to  use  the  means  it  afibrdod  to  re- 
move the  dust  and  grime  of  his  journey.  As  he  came 
down  stairs,  an  appetizing  fragrance  of  coffee  was  wafted 
up ;  and  when  he  entered  the  cosy  sitting  room,  he  found 
a  tempting  tea  table  prepared  for  his  entertainment. 

"We  waited  tea  to-night  till  you  could  join  us,  Walter," 
said  his  uncle ;  "  we  thought  it  would  be  more  sociable  to 
sit  down  together."  And  a  merry  little  party  they  made, 
all  prepared  to  do  justice  to  the  delicate  ham  and  j 'iffy 
biscuits,  the  rich  preserves  and  light  cake. 

Walter  felt  at  home  at  once,  and  soon  was  conversing 
freely  on  different  topics  of  the  day ;  for  his  uncle  was 


!■  1, 


128 


WALTER    HAHLEV'S   <;OXQUE.ST. 


one  who  always  made  young  people  feel  that  he  was 
their  friend.  He  liked  to  hoar  them  state  their  views  on 
subjects  that  interested  tliem.  He  always  respected  their 
opinions,  however  crudely  expressed,  and  did  not  set 
them  down  because  they  sometimes  dared  to  difl'er  from 
old-estu.jlished  authorities ;  so  he  won  their  confidence. 
They  felt  that  he  gave  them  credit  for  being  something, 
and  that  he  appreciated  the  best  that  was  in  them,  and 
they  were  encouraged  to  tell  him  their  ambitions  and 
aspirations,  their  troubles  and  perplexities,  knowing  that 
they  were  sure  of  his  sympathy  and  help ;  and  he,  in 
turn,  would  often  ask  their  advice  and  help,  thus  making 
them  feel  that  he  looked  on  them  as  friends.  It  was  not 
much  wonder,  then,  that  he  had  an  enthusiastic  band  of 
young  workers  in  his  church,  nor  that  he  often  received 
letters  from  those  who  had  gone  out  to  the  great  cities  to 
seek  their  fortunes,  and  whom  he  still  remembered  with 
kindl;  .ntei-jst. 

The  evening  passed  away  quickly ;  then,  before  they 
separated  for  the  night,  Mr.  Harley,  in  a  few  words,  gave 
thanks  for  protection  and  guidance  during  the  day,  and 
asked  the  Heavenly  Father  to  keep  them  all  that  night. 
And  when  he  prayed  "  that  our  dear  young  friend  might 
in  this  visit  '  be  blessed  and  be  a  blessing,' "  Walter's 
whole  heart  responded  "  Amen  ! " 


that  he  was 
leir  views  on 
spected  their 
did  not  set 
)  differ  from 
r  confidence. 
J  something, 
n  them,  and 
ibitions  and 
:no\ving  that 
;  and  he,  in 
thus  making 
It  was  not 
Stic  band  of 
len  received 
rcat  cities  to 
tnbered  with 


before  they 
words,  gave 
he  day,  and 
that  night, 
riend  might 
/"Walter's 


M 


Walter  Uurley'e  Couiiiicat. 


Page  129. 


-',l-H-,JBl,mJ^^,li.  ^_.  ,\  |,Jtl,^^J.i_,,.,^yn;^y^^  ^ 


I. 


WALTER    HARLEY's   CONQUEST, 


129 


FT 


^  ».#• 


Walter  was  just  ^o'mg  up  stairs,  when  his  uncle,  who 
had  gone  to  tlie  front  door,  called  him  ;  and,  as  Walter 
came  out,  lie  said : 

"  Is  not  that  a  picture  ?  " 

The  full  moon  ])oured  a  flood  of  silvery  light  over  sea 
and  land.  Beneath  tiiem  tiie  little  town  lay  hushed  and 
still,  while  out  on  the  bay  the  moonbeams,  falling  athwart 
the  rippling  waters,  made  a  shining  pathway,  that  seemed 
as  though  it  must 'surely  lead  to  heaven. 

"Fairhaven  is  fairer  than  ever  by  moonlight,"  said 
Walter.  And  the  vision  of  that  bright  scene  followed 
him  until  he  closed  his  eyes  in  sleep. 

Walter  came  down  the  next  morning  in  the  best  of 
spirits.  The  morning  sun  streamed  cheerfully  into  the 
sitting  room.     Here  he  found  his  uncle,  with  Baby  Paul. 

"  This  is  the  king  of  the  house,  Walter,"  said  Mr. 
Harley,  holding  up  a  blue-eyed,  round-faced,  rosy-cheeked 
boy.  .         , 

The  blue  eyes  gazed  wonderingly  at  Walter;  soon  the 
baby  lips  parted  in  a  little  smile,  and  it  was  not  long 
before  they  were  the  best  of  friends. 

"Are  you  ready  for  a  ramble,  Walter?  "  said  his  uncle, 
at  the  breakfast  table. 

"Yes,  indeed.  I  think,  in  this  bracing  air,' I  could 
walk  miles." 


> 

I 


180  WALTER    HARLEY's   CONQUEST. 

"Well,  you  must  walk  over  to  the  shore  with  me,  nnd 
and  I  will  show  you  my  favorite  nook,  where  I  like  to 
sit  and  watch  the  tide  come  in  ;  but  first,"  continued  Mr. 
Harley,  smilingly.  •'!  must  take  you  around  my  estate." 
So  after  breakfast  Walter  accompanied  his  uncle 
around  the  place.  The  little  plot  of  ground  in  front, 
which  was  Mrs.  Harley's  especial  charge,  was  tastefully 
laid  out  with  beds  of  flowers  set  in  a  smooth  lawn ;  here 
and  there  were  planted  a  few  hardy  shrubs ;  a  climbing 
rose  waved  its  pink  buds  into  the  sitting-room  window, 
every  breath  of  air  wafting  their  fragrance  through  the 
room.  Behind  the  house  was  a  vegetable  garden ;  at 
the  side  of  the  house  grew  a  few  fruit  trees ;  beyond  was 
a  pasture  for  the  horse  and  cow. 

Walter  found  that  his  uncle  had  been  up  since  five 
o'clock,  working  in  his  garden,  and  tending  his  live 
stock;  and  the  order  and  neatness  everywhere  pre- 
vailing showed  how  systematically  and  thoroughly  he 
worked. 

About  eleven  o'clock  they  started  for  the  shore.  Mr. 
Harley  took  with  him  a  note  book  and  pencil. 

"  I  often  jot  down  thoughts  for  my  sermons  when  I 
visit  my  little  nook,"  he  said.  "At  other  times,  I  take  a 
book  with  me  and  study." 

They  did  not  go  down  ii.to  the  village,  but  struck 


y-^fl^x-^  ■■■E^^.'^sia's.'afej^r'^s 


rith  me,  and 
re  I  like  to 
ntinued  Mr. 

my  estate," 
1  his  uncle 
id  in  front, 
m  tastefully 

lawn;  here 
;  a  climbing 
om  window, 
through  the 
garden;  at 
beyond  was 

p  since  five 
ig  his  live 
where  pre- 
iroughly  he 

shore.    Mr. 

ons  when  I 
as,  I  take  a 

but  struck 


, 


WAL.TEn    HARLEY's  CONQUEST.  131 

across  the  country,  and  came  toward  the  shore  on  the  other 
side  of  the  point  of  land  which  shut  in  the  bay.  Here 
tiio  waves  rolled  in  with  more  force  than  in  the  land- 
locked haven.  They  followed  a  narrow  pathway  leading 
down  the  rocky  sloi*.  About  half  way  down,  Mr.  Harley 
stepped  aside,  round  a  huge  boulder,  and  they  found 
themselves  in  a  little  recess.  Here,  sheltered  from  the 
winds  by  the  rocks,  they  could  sit  and  look  far  out  to 
sea,  and  watch  the  white-crested  waves,  as  they  followed 
one  another  in  quick  succession,  and  broke  on  the  rocks 
beneath,  dashing  high  a  shower  of  silvery  spray. 

By-and-by  Mr.  Harley  began  to  write.  Walter  had 
a  book  with  him,  but  he  found  the  book  of  nature  more 
attractive  that  bright  morning;  so  he  sat  idly  teasing 
pebbles  down  the  slope,  listening  to  their  clink,  clink,  as 
they  bounded  from  rock  to  rock,  and  were  lost  to  sight. 
And  all  the  while  he  was  dreaming  of  the  future  that 
stretched  before  him,  vast  and  trackless  as  the  ocean  on 
which  he  gazed ;  and  his  thoughts  flitted  as  lightly  and 
joyously  over  it  as  the  birds  that  skimmed  the  sparkling 
waves. 

After  a  while,  Walter  began  to  study  his  uncle,  who  was 
lost  in  deep  thought.  There  was  something  rugged  about 
Mr.  Harley's  countenance,  and  when  in  intense  thought 
an  almost  stern  look  ;  but  how  soon  that  could  chan<re  into 


182 


WALTER    HAHLEY's   CONQUEST. 


a  radiant  smile,  that  lit  up  every  feature,  Walter  well 
knew.  The  deep  lines  on  that  high  forehead  seemed  to 
suggest  struggle  and  anxiety ;  and  there  was  an  expression 
in  those  dark  eyes  that  told  of  deep,  heart-felt  suffering. 
Walter,  as  he  quietly  etudied  that  face,  felt  sure  that  his 
uncle's  life  had  not  flowed  on  so  easily  as  had  that  of  his 
own  father.  He  had  heard  very  little  about  his  uncles 
early  h-ra,  save  that  he  liad  given  up  good  worldly  pros- 
pects 1j  enter  the  miaistry;  but  he  resolved  that  ho 
would  ttsk  him  at  some  favorable  opportunity  how  he 
was  led  to  become  a  minister.  Just  then  Uncle  George 
turned  around,  and  catching  Walter's  earnest  gaze,  his 
features  relaxed  into  a  smile. 

"You  think  your  uncle  a  grum-looking  old  fellow, 
don't  3'ou  ?  ''  he  said. 

"No  uncle;  I  was  not  thinking  anything  of  the 
kind." 

It  was  on  the  tip  of  Walter's  tongue  to  ask  the  ques- 
tion that  was  uppermost  in  his  mind,  but  something 
held  him  back ;  he  hesitated.  At  that  moment  a  passing 
ship,  evidently  bound  for  Fairhaven,  took  their  attention. 
Mr.  Harley  managed  to  decipher  the  name. 

"  It  is  the  '  Water  Nymph,' "  he  said.  "  She  has  been 
hourly  expected  for  the  last  few  days.  Probably  the 
storm  we  had  a  few  days  ago  has  delayed  her." 


'-.^SS^S!^->!li^33^&i 


WALTKU    HAIlLKV'a   C'OXQUEST. 


l.'J3 


Walter  well 
d  seemed  to 
ill  expression 
i;lt  suffering. 
Hire  that  Iiis 
i  that  of  his 
t  his  uncles 
worldly  pros- 
ved  that  ho 
nity  how  he 
ncle  George 
est  gaze,  hia 

old  fellow, 

ling  of  the 

sk  the  ques- 
t  something 
nt  a  passing 
iir  attention. 

he  has  been 
'robably  the 


"Well,  they  have  outridden  it,  and  will  soon  be  in 
port,"  said  Walter. 

"Yes,"  returned  his  uncle,  gazing  abstractedly  out 
over  the  waters,  and  speaking  more  to  himself  than 
to  Walter,  "through  storm  and  through  calm,  'go 
ho  bringeth  them  unto  their  desired  haven.'  "  His  eyes 
^  musingly  followed  the  vessel  for  a  time ;  then,  suddenly 
recollecting  himself,  he  pulled  out  his  watch.  "  Come, 
Walter,  we  shall  only  just  roach  home  in  time  for  dinner; 
and  we  must  not  keep  your  aunt  waiting." 

"  You  are  just  like  my  father;  he  is  so  punctual,  and 
cannot  bear  to  have  one  of  us  a  minute  late." 

"  It  is  just  as  easy  to  be  in  time  as  to  be  just  a  few 
minutes  late,  and  it  often  saves  others  a  great  deal  of 
inconvenience.  This  afternoon,  Walter,  you  will  have  to 
explore  alone,  as  I  .shall  not  be  able  to  go  with  you ;  and 
I  advise  you  to  make  tlie  most  of  to-day,  as  there  will 
be  rain  shortly." 

"Why,  uncle,  there  is  not  a  cloud  in  the  sky,"  ex- 
claimed Walter. 

"True ;  but  we  have  a  barometer  that  never  fails.  Do 
you  see  that  cloud-like  line  on  the  horizon?"  turning 
and  pointing  seaward. 

"Yes,  plainly  ;  it  is  an  island,  is  it  not?  " 

"Yes;  it  is  Sandy  Head  Island.    Now  when  you  can 


-„  jL... 


184 


VVAI/rKH    IIAIU.KY's  a)NQIJE8T, 


Bee  timt  HH  di-^tiiictly  uh  you  can  to-dii)'  thoro  id  Huro  ti)  be 
a  Mtorm  in  a  diiy  or  two."  i 

"  Tlmt  M  too  bad,"  hiiid  Walter.  "  I  wan  sure  wo  were 
going  to  iiave  line  wcatlier  by  tlic  appearance  alK)Ut  uj  ; 
however,  I  suppoHO  I  must  tal;c  tilings  a.x  tliey  come." 

Walter  sjKjnt  the  afternoon  in  wand(!ring  ar(>und  the 
town.  It  was  a  very  (piiet,  sleepy  place.  Some  of  the 
HtreetH  were  qnite  graw-grown,  and  not  a  ])er8on  wa.s  to 
be  seen  on  them,  the  ducke,  geese,  and  chickens  appear- 
ing to  have  the  monopoly  of  these  less  freciuented  jjarts. 
On  the  slope  of  the  hill  at  the  back  of  the  town,  he 
passed  some  snbstantial  houses,  built  by  retired  sea  caji- 
tains.  Walter  thoroughly  enjoyed  his  ramble  ;  and  gave 
an  amusing  account  of  it  to  his  uncle  and  aunt  over  the 
tea  table.       ,   ,       i       , 

The  next  morning  proved  cloudy  and  foggy,  just  as 
Mr.  Harley  had  predicted,  and  before  afleriioon  a  steady 
rain  had  set  in.    Walter  concluded  to  write  letters  home. 

"  You  had  better  come  to  my  study,"  said  his  uncle ; 
"there  are  pens  and  paper  there,  and  you  will  be  undis- 
turbed." 

The  study  was  a  little  room  in  the  right  wing  of  the 
house.  There  Mr.  Harley  had  all  his  books.  There  was 
a  door  on  one  side  leading  into  the  sitting  room,  and  on 
the  other  side  one  opening  into  the  garden.    Walter  was 


■S^iPSB: 


in  Huro  to  be 

Hire  wo  were 
ce  about  ii.* ; 
y  como." 
around  tlio 
Some  of  the 
trsoii  woH  to 
kens  appciir- 
leiited  })artH. 
lie  town,  he 
ired  sea  oain 
c ;  luid  giive 
lilt  over  the 

ffiry,  just  as 
3011  a  steady 
etters  homo. 
1  his  uncle; 
ill  be  undis- 

wiiig  of  the 

There  was 

lom,  and  on 

Walter  was 


WALTKU   haulky'h  C(»N0UFJST. 


136 


Boon  I'Hf^aKed  in  letter  writiiiK;  wiiilc  his  uncle  bu><ied 
liiniHelf  turning  out  a  de.-(k,  looking  over  letters,  putting 
sonic  aside  to  ht;  burned,  and  carefully  tying  up  otliern, 
noting  on  them  the  date  and  name  of  the  writers.  Walter 
had  nearly  finiHhcd  liis  letter,  when  he  hapiienod  to 
glance  into  his  uncle's  dewk,  now  nearly  empty,  and  saw 
there  a  picture  of  a  fair  girlish  face,  that  certainly  never 
wa«  Mrs.  Ilarlcy's. 

"Oh,  uncle  !  "  said  ho,  mischievously,  "  I  am  surprised 
at  you  for  keeping  a  young  liiiU's  picture  so  carefully. 
What  would  Aunt  Jessie  say? 

"Aunt  Jessie  knows  all  about  it,"  said  Mr.  Ila.ley, 
smiling.  Then  a  grave  look  stealing  over  Ids  face,  he 
continued:  "Tiiis  young  girl,  years  ago,  was  my  be- 
trothed wife ;  we  were  to  have  been  married  in  a  few 
weeks  when  death  snatched  her  away  from  me." 

"Oh,  uncle!  "said  Walter,  "I  beg  your  pardon.  I 
never  thought  of  anything  of  that  kind,  or  I  would  not 
have  said  anytliing  about  it." 

"You  never  heard  nmch  about  my  early  life,  did 
you  ?  "  said  Mr.  Ilarley.  "  Well,  after  leaving  college,  I 
obtained  a  i)osition  in  a  banking  house,  whore  I  received  a 
good  salary  for  one  so  young,  with  a  prosj)ect  of  increase; 
in  addition  to  this,  I  had  some  income  from  my  share  of 
my  mother's  property.    All  I  wanted  was  a  home,  which 


II 


II  (] 


SSiiE^^ld^l!'" 


■'9iy-^<JXSSi^iiiiO'ii£lSi»ii^i»S.' 


-.r-^^'TSi'H  — ■ 


«' 


13G 


AVATTER    HAKLEY.S   CONQUEST. 


I  had  not  had  for  years,  as  mine  wns  early  broken  into 
by  my  mother's  death.  It  was  not  mueh  wonder,  then, 
that  I  became  engaged,  while  yet  quite  young,  to  Alice 
Leigh,  a  lovely  Christian  girl.  After  an  engagement  of 
a  year  or  more,  I  wished  to  marry.  Her  friends  objected 
on  account  of  our  youth,  as  I  was  barely  twenty-two, 
and  she  not  twenty  ;  but  I  would  take  no  denial,  so  we 
scitied  on  September  as  the  month  for  our  wedding. 

"  I  remember  in  tho  summer  I  ran  down  for  a  few  days 
to  visit  your  father.  lie  had  such  a  pleasant  lionie.  You 
were  a  baby  tiien,  and  they  seemed  so  happy  ;  and  I  looked 
forward  with  bright  anticipations  to  having  as  pleasant  a 
Lome  myself.  I  did  not  cross  that  threshold  again  for 
seven  years.  Alice  was  at  that  tirae  away  visiting  friends. 
About  a  week  after  my  return  came  the  word,  crushing 
me  to  the  earth,  that  Alice  was  drowned.  While  out 
sailing  the  boat  capsized.  There  were  two  saved,  I  think ; 
but  the  agonizing  thought  was,  '  If  only  I  had  been  there 
I  might  have  saved  her,'  for  I  was  a  good  swimmer.  Oh, 
Walter,  how  terribly  sad  are  the  words,  '  It  might  have 
been ! ' " 

He  paused ;  for  a  moment  a  look  of  anguish  came  into 
his  dark  eyes,  and  he  drew  a  quick  breath,  as  one  in  pain. 
It  was  only  for  a  moment,  and  then  he  went  on : 

"  It  is  all  over  now,  and  after  this  lapse  of  time  I  can 


I 


1 


I 


^ 


I 


iT. 

y  broken  into 
wonder,  then, 
3ung,  to  Alice 
engagement  of 
•iends  olyeeted 
ly  twenty-two, 
3  denial,  so  we 
wedding, 
for  a  few  days 
it  lioiuc.  You 
;  and  I  looked 
5  as  pleasant  a 
hold  again  for 
'isiting  friends, 
word,  crushing 
1.  While  out 
saved,  I  think ; 
had  been  there 
swimmer.  Oh, 
It  might  have 

:uish  came  into 
as  one  in  pain, 
tit  on: 
of  time  I  can 


I 


WALTER    H.\ULKy'S   CONQUKST. 


137 


say  I  am  thankful ;  yes,  thankful  that  she  is  safe — forever 
safe — from  all  eartli's  troubles  and  cares,  enjoying  the 
perfect  bliss  of  a  heavenly  home. 

"  Thttt  dai'k  trial  completely  changed  my  life.  I  liad 
alwayj  imagined  myself  a  good  Christian ;  liut  in  this 
time  of  trial  I  was  like  a  tempest-tossed  bark.  I  lost  faith 
and  hope,  and  could  not  be  reconciled  to  my  bereavement. 
Unabl'?  to  stay  in  the  place  that  was  so  full  of  recollections 
of  her,  I  gave  up  my  situation,  and  started  westward, 
caring  little  where  I  went.  I  finally  stopped  in  a  large 
Western  town.  I  obtained,  without  much  difficulty,  a 
position  as  bookkeeper.  The  salary  was  small,  nor  was 
there  much  prosjject  of  advancement ;  but  I  did  not  care, 
there  was  so  iittle  incentive  to  work  or  earn. 

"  It  was  a  dark  time  for  me.  Sometimes  I  was  tempted 
to  let  go  what  feeble  hold  I  had  on  religion,  and  plunge 
into  a  whirlpool  of  dissipation  ;  but  ever  a  sweet  face  rose 
before  me — I  could  not  go  where  she  would  not  have 
approved.  Tiie  memory  of  her  kept  me  also  a  regular 
attendant  at  Sunday  worship.  I  visited  all  the  churches 
in  turn ;  at  last  one  morning  I  saw  in  the  vestibule  of 
one  of  them  a  printed  programme  of  services  with  the 
name  of  the  pastor,  Rev.  Harris  Bowes.  I  recognized  it 
at  once  as  the  name  of  a  college  friend.  I  listened,  con- 
sequently, with  more  than  usual  interest  to  his  sermon, 


It 


3, 


II  { !'fv»itm/mmfmrmm 


138 


WALTER    IIAUI.EY's  CONQUEST. 


but  at  the  close  did  not  make  myself  known.     I  felt  aa 
thougli  I  could  not  let  him  know  that  his  once  merry, 
hai)i)y-hearted  college  chum  was  a  disappointed,  miserable 
man.     As  I  passed  out,  however,  determined  to  speak  to 
uo  one,  a  genial,  kindly  man  stepped  up  to  me,  and 
shook  hands  and  welcomed  me  to  the  services.     It  was 
not  in  human  nature  to  re-^ist  his  kindness,  so  I  gave 
him  my  address.     That  afternoon  I  was  i^i   my  sitting 
room,  when  a  card  was  brought  up  to      x    The  name 
on  it  was  the  Rev.  H.  Bowes,  and  in  a  few  moments 
we  were  face  to  face.     You  may  be  sure  he  saw  at  a. 
glance   that  all  had  not  gone   well  with  me,  nor   was 
it  long  before  I  told  him  my  trouble  and  my  doubts — 
it  was  the  first  time  I  had  told  any  one.     Oh,  he  was 
a  true  friend   to   mo !     I  feel  that  under  God  I   owe 
everything  to  him,  so  kindly,  so  patiently  did  he  try  to 
lead  me  back  to  fuith  in  God,  and  in  his  unerring  wisdom 
and  love.     In  my  dark  hours — and  they  were  not  a  few 
— he  never  grew  discouraged,  never  let  go  his  hold  on 
me,  but  followed  me  up,  and  cheered  me  Avith  the  hope 
of  better  days  ahead. 

"  He  induced  me  at  length  to  attend  jirayer  meeting. 
Slowlj  Uie  darkness  passed,  and  light  and  peace  dawned, 
and  I  began  once  more  to  take  my  place  in  the  church. 
My  li-iend  found  plenty  for  me  to  do,  and  in  visiting 


- 


r. 

n\.    I  felt  aa 
once  merry, 
ted,  niiserjible 
d  to  speak  to 
1  to  me,  and 
vices.     It  was 
!S3,  so  I  gave 
i'l   my  sitting 
\     The  name 
few  moments 
',  he  saw  at  a. 
me,  nor   was 
I  my  doubts — 
Oh,  he  was 
r  God  I   owe 
did  he  try  to 
erring  wisdom 
ere  not  a  few 
;o  his  hold  on 
with  the  hope 

rayer  meeting, 
peace  dawned, 
in  tlie  church. 
Lud  in  visiting 


'a 


WALTER    HARLEY'S   CONQUEST 


J  39 


I 


- 


among  tlie  poor,  and  ministering  to  the  sick  and  suffer- 
ing, I  found  my  own  burden  lightened.  To  work  for 
Jesus  was  now  my  delight. 

"  One  day,  after  addressing  a  meeting  at  a  mission  in 
which  1  was  very  much  interested,  I  walked  home  with 
Mr.  Bowes,  talking  earnestly  of  one  and  another  for 
whose  spiritual  welfare  I  wivs  concerned.  When  he 
reached  his  study,  he  said,  abruptly :  '  George,  you  ouglit 
to  be  a  minister,  and  I  believe  the  Lord  has  been  leading 
you  toward  that  all  these  years.' 

"  I  said  not  one  word,  but  the  thought  filled  my  heart 
to  overflowing,  and  tlie  more  I  thought  of  it  the  more 
there  crept  into  it  a  joy  that  was  a  stranger  there.  I  felt 
once  again  tliere  was  something  worth  living  for.  I  re- 
membered hearing  that  my  mother  had  said  that  she 
hoped  and  prayed  that  one  of  her  sons  might  be  a  minis- 
ter— perhaps  I  was  to  be  the  one.  It  seemed  others  had 
the  same  thought  as  did  Mr.  Bowes,  and  the  end  of  it  was, 
I  gave  up  my  situation,  and  entered  a  theological  institu- 
tion. Very  happy  were  tlie  days  spent  there,  and  they  are 
full  of  pleasant  memories.  Near  the  close  of  my  term 
of  study  I  met  your  aunt,  and  found  in  her  one  every 
way  fitted  to  be  my  companion  in  life.  You  know  the 
rest.  Ana  now  '  my  burden  has  fallen  from  me,  and 
only  the  sorrow  of  othei-s  throws  its  shadov?  over  me.' " 


ill 


140 


WALTER    HARLEY's   CX)NQUK8T. 


He  looked  up  with  a  bright  smile,  for  just  then  Mrs. 
Harley  entered  with  the  baby  in  her  arms. 

"  Baby  has  just  awaked,"  slie  said ;  "  can  you  take  him 
for  a  few  moments  while  I  finish  my  preserving?  " 

'•  Yes,  indeed,"  replied  Mr.  Harley.  And  he  was  soon 
playing  with  baby  in  true  fatherly  fashion,  while  Walter 
finished  his  letter. 

The  rain  had  ceased ;  and  suddenly  a  gleam  of  sun- 
light illumined  the  room. 

"Sunshine  after  rain,"  said  Uncle  George;  "we  can 
go  down  to  the  office,  and  post  those  letters,  when  Aunt 
Jessie  is  ready  to  take  the  baby."  A  few  minutes  later, 
and  they  were  walking  rapidly  along  the  muddy  streets. 

It  was  the  first  time  they  had  been  down  into  the  town 
together,  and  on  their  way  Mr.  Harley  pointed  out  the 
old  schoolhouse  where  service  was  '.eld  when  he  first 
ministered  to  the  people.  The  church  in  which  they 
now  worshiped  had  been  built  through  his  efforts ;  and  it 
was  evident  that  the  work  here  had  a  strong  hold  on  his 
heart. 

"  I  am  so  attached,"  he  said,  "  to  my  people,  that  I 
should  find  it  a  very  diflicult  matter  to  sever  my  connec- 
tion with  them." 

The  people  were  just  aa  much  attached  to  their  j>astor, 
as  Walter  learned  in  the  course  of  his  stay. 


ST. 

just  then  Mrs. 

1  you  take  him 
•ving?" 
id  he  was  soon 
,  while  Walter 

gleam  of  sun- 

)rgc;  "we  can 
irs,  when  Aunt 

minutes  later, 
muddy  streets. 
1  into  the  town 
ointed  out  the 

when  he  first 
in  which  they 

efforts ;  and  it 
ng  hold  on  his 

people,  that  I 
ver  my  connec- 

to  their  j*astor. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

OPPORTUNITIES   IMPROVED. 

SUNDAY  morning  came,  and  Walto.    let  for  the  fii-st 
time  with  the  congregation  at  Fairhaven.    It  was 
also  the  first  time  he  had  ever  heard  his  uncle  preach. 

Mr.  Harley's  style  was  simple,  earnest,  direct ;  and  he 
spoke  with  a  heartfelt  conviction  that  made  his  words 
come  :vith  power  to  the  hearts  of  his  hearers.  After  the 
service  he  passed  in  and  out  among  the  people,  shaking 
hands  with  one,  making  inquiries  after  some  sick  friend 
or  absent  child  of  another,  and  so  on.  He  introduced 
Walter  to  a  great  many  of  the  people— so  many,  in- 
deed, that  Walter  was  afraid  he  could  never  remember 

them  all. 

In  the  afternoon  Walter  went  to  the  Sunday-school 
with  his  aunt,  who  was  jne  of  the  teachers.  The  super- 
intendent came  up  to  speak  to  him,  and  asked  him  to 
teach  a  class  whose  teacher  was  absent  that  day.  Walter 
hesitated  for  a  few  moments ;  he  would  nmch  rather  not 
teach,  but  he  remembered  Mr.  Harrison's  counsel  to  his 
class  to  do  all  the  good  they  could  while  away.    Then 

the  words  of  Holy  Writ  came  stealing  into  his  heart, 

141 


ti 


M 


142 


WALTER    HARLEY's  CONQUEST. 


i!  I 


"Even  Christ  pleased  not  himself."  So  he  said:  "I  will 
try  and  teach  the  class,"  and  followed  the  superin- 
tendent to  the  other  side  of  the  room,  where  he  found  a 
class  of  half  a  dozen  boys.  It  must  be  confessed  Walter 
felt  somewhat  embarrassed,  for  some  of  them  were  quite 
as  large  as  he.  The  superintendent  had,  however,  spoken 
truthfully,  when  he  said  it  was  a  nice  class.  They  were 
all  poor  boys,  and  not  nearly  so  well  informed  on  Scrip- 
ture subjects  as  Walter;  and  as  he  could  speak  with 
considerable  ease  and  fluency,  he  won  their  close  atten- 
tion ;  80  the  half  hour  passed  away  quite  quickly. 

Walter  found  opportunities  for  doing  good  on  other 
days  than  Sundays.  He  sometimes  accompanied  his 
uncle  to  see  some  of  his  parishioners.  One  of  these 
visits  was  paid  to  the  home  of  a  little  boy  who  was 
suffering  from  spinal  disease.  Walter  felt  sorry  for  the 
little  invalid,  shut  in  from  all  active  amusements,  and 
soon  he  became  a  frequent  visitor  at  the  house.  Jamie's 
eyes  would  brighten  so  at  his  coming ;  for  he  would  sit 
down  by  him  ai.J  read  him  a  story,  or  whittle  out  some 
little  toy.  One  close  afternoon,  finding  him  very  poorly, 
he  took  the  mother's  place  by  the  bedside,  and  fanned 
the  little  fellow,  giving  the  mother  an  opportunity  to 
attend  to  some  household  duties. 

On  Wednesday  evenings  Walter  always  went  with  his 


I 


iT. 

sftid :  "  I  will 
the  superiu- 
ii'e  he  found  a 
ifessed  Walter 
em  were  quite 
)wever,  spoken 
a.  They  were 
med  on  Scrip- 
Id  speak  with 
lir  close  atten- 
[uickly. 
good  on  other 
^om.panicd  his 
One  of  these 
boy  who  was 
t  sorry  for  the 
lusements,  and 
ouse.  Jamie's 
r  he  would  sit 
[little  out  some 
m  very  poorly, 
ie,  and  fanned 
opportunity  to 

9  went  with  his 


WALTER    barley's  CONQUEST. 


143 


uncle  to  the  prayer  meeting.  He  had,  as  yet,  a  sweet 
boyish  voice,  and  so  could  help  in  the  singing.  Nor  did 
he  find  it  hard  in  that  little  company  of  simple-hearted 
believers  to  speak  of  his  love  to  Jesus,  and  his  determi- 
nation to  follow  him. 

The  second  Sunday  of  Walter's  visit  wius  a  drenching 
wet  day.  As  Walter  stood  at  the  window,  looking  out  on 
the  stormy  scene,  he  thought,  "  Surely  uncle  won't  be  able 
to  drive  to  Orme's  Cove  to-day,'  where  Mr.  Ilarley 
always  held  service  on  Sunday  afternoon.  The  bay  was 
wrapped  in  a  fog ;  a  strong  wind  blew  from  the  sea,  driv- 
ing the  rain  in  sheets  against  the  window  panes.  Walter 
turned  away  and  seated  himself  at  the  organ.  While  he 
waa  looking  in  the  hymn  book  for  some  familiar  tune,  he 
heard  his  aunt  say : 

"  You  surely  will  not  go  to-day,  George ;  there  will  not 
be  any  one  there." 

"  It  is  my  duty  to  be  there,  whether  any  one  else  is 
there  or  not,"  her  husband  replied.  "  If  there  is  no  one 
at  the  schoolhouse,  I  can  go  into  Deacon  Andrews'  house 
and  hold  a  service.  There  is  quite  a  large  household 
there,  you  know." 

"  Well,"  said  Mrs.  Harley,  with  a  little  sigh,  "  I  sup- 
pose it  is  right  to  go  ;  but  it  seems  rather  hard  for  you 
to  have  to  drive  so  ftv  in  such  a  storm." 


^i 


144  WALTER    HABLKY's  CONQUEST. 

W-ilter  waited  to  hear  no  more,  but  closed  the  book 
and  slipped  away  to  his  room.  Soon  he  came  down 
stairs,  his  rubber  coiit  on  his  arm. 

"  Uncle,"  he  said,  cheerily,  "  can  you  take  me  along 
too?" 

"  Oh,  my  boy,  you  must  not  go  in  such  a  storm.  Some 
fine  day  you  will  enjoy  going  with  me." 

"  I  don't  mind  the  lain  ;  I  am  well  fortified  against  it, 
you  see.  And  you  wiil  be  sure  of  having  a  congregation 
of  one,  at  least,'"  he  added,  merrily. 

"  If  you  are  bent  on  going,  I  am  sure  I  shall  be  glad 
of  your  company,"  said  his  uncle. 

Mrs.  Harlcy  looked  relieved.  "I  am  glad  you  are 
going  too,  Walter,"  she  said.  "It  will  not  be  so 
lonely  for  your  uncle."  In  a  few  moments  she  stood  at 
the  window,  with  the  baby  in  her  arms,  watching  them 
as  they  drove  away. 

Walter  had  never  been  out  in  'such  a  storm  before. 
The  road,  after  cutting  across  the  country  for  a  short 
distance,  followed  the  sea  coast  along  the  top  of  high 
cliffs.  Here  they  felt  the  full  violence  of  .the  storm. 
The  rain,  blown  with  violent  gusts  of  wind,  came  with 
such  force  that  they  felt  as  though  they  were  in  the  very 
midst  of  the  storm  cloud. 

"  In  fine  weather  this  is  a  lovely  jirive,"  said  Mr.  Har- 


GST. 

losed  the  book 
he  came  down 

take  me  along 

a  storm.  Some 

tified  against  it, 
a  congregation 

I  I  shall  be  glad 

1  glad  you  are 

vill    not    be  so 

t\ts  she  stood  at 

watching  them 

a  storm  before, 
itry  for  a  short 
;he  top  of  high 
?  of. the  storm, 
rind,  came  with 
were  in  the  very 

,"  said  Mr.  Har- 


WALTKK    HARLEYS   CONQTrtST. 


145 


ley.    "  There  is  a  fine  view  seaward,  and  also  a  pleasant 
prospect  on  the  landward  side.'' 

Naught  of  this  could  even  be  guessed  nt  now,  as  the 
fog  blotted  it  out  c«mj)lctely.  So  they  drove  on  for  five 
miles.  Then  the  road  began  to  dip  down  into  a  hollow, 
and  they  found  themselves  at  Ormcs  Cove. 

When  they  entered  the  schoolhouse  they  found  three 
men  and  a  boy.  Mr.  Harley  started  a  hynm  immedi- 
ately, Waiter  took  it  up,  and  the  three  men  and  the  boy 
joined  in  ;  so  there  was  considerable  heartiness  in  the 
beginning  of  the  service.  Meanwhile,  word  had  gone 
around  that  the  minii^ter  had  come ;  and  before  long,  tlie 
congregation  numbered  a  dozen,  among  whom  there 
were  two  or  three  women. 

Mr.  Harley  chose  for  his  text  the  second  verse  of  the 
thirty-second  chapter  of  Isaiah,  "  A  man  shall  be  as  a 
hiding  place  from  the  wind,  and  a  covert  from  the 
tempest." 

At  the  close  of  the  sermon,  opportunity  was  given — as 
is  customary  in  country  places — for  any  who  so  desired 
to  speak  or  pray.  As  is  usual  on  stormy  days,  the  few 
present  felt  themselves  under  special  obligations,  and 
one  and  another  took  part  sc  "'imply  and  earnestly,  that 
each  Christian  heart  must  have  felt  it  was  good  to  be 
there. 


146  WAI.TEU    IIARI.E^'S   CO'QUKST. 

The  service  ended.     M. .  Harloy  lin-ored.  talking  with 
one   und   an.)th(>r.     WuUo!    was   introduced   to  Deacon 
Andrew.-  and  l.i.  wife,  and  before  the  good  couple  left, 
they  P.ado  Mr.  Iltuley  promise  that  lie  and  his  nephew, 
together  with  Mrs.  Hurley  and  the  l)ahy,  would  come  the 
first  fine  day,  and  spend  the  afternoon  with  thom.     Near 
the  door  slo..d  two  men,  one  a  stalwart  fishurman,  in  the 
prime  of  life.  wl>o  was  evidently  well  ac.,uainted  with 
Mr.    Harley.     He    introduced    the    other,   an   elderly, 
weather-beaten     uiilor,   .is    captain   son.ebody.     Walter 
coidd  not  catch  the  nan\e. 

«  I  rec'-ui  you  are  no  fair-weather  Christian,"'  said  the 

stranger  to  Mr.  Harley. 

After  a  few  piussing  remarks,  Mr.  Harley  said:  "  D-. 
y'.u  not  need  Jesus  as  a  shelter  from  the  storm  ?  " 

"  Aye  aye.  sir.'  wa-s  the  response.  Then,  as  they 
entered  i..to  farther  conversation,  Walter  turned  away, 
and  wandered  about  the  schoolroom,  whose  arrangements 
and  fur.ushings  looked  rude  enough  to  a  student  of  the 
KnowlLon  Academy. 

The  conversation  ended,  he  joined  his  uncle,  and  they 
started  on  their  homeward  way.  The  su>rm  had  abated, 
though  rain  was  still  falling. 

"  I  feel  well  repaid  for  comin  ;  through  the  storm," 
said  Mr.  Harley.     "  That  man  with  whom  I  Aras  talking 


m  ;il 


"VT^T^ 


ST. 

(I,  talking  with 
ed   to  Deueoii 
)0(l  couplo  left, 
11(1  hirt  ncpliow, 
vould  come  the 
h  tiioni.    Near 
ilicTinan,  in  the 
etiuuintcd  with 
er,   an   eUlorly, 
•body.     Walt*!!- 

istian,"  said  the 

irley  said :  "  Do 
storm  ?  " 
Then,  m  thoy 
2r  tnrned  away, 
ise  arrangements 
a  student  of  the 

!  uncle,  and  they 
A)rm  had  abated, 

)ugh  the  storm," 
om  I  Aras  talking 


WAI-TEIl    llAUr.KY's   COXQUEHT. 


147 


was  a  stranger,  and  was  only  stopping  at  Orme's  Cove  for 
a  few  days.  He  had  been  feeling  anxious  aiiout  ids  soul 
for  some  time,  and  came  to  the  meeting  this  afternoon 
with  a  (lesiri!  to  receive  help.  lie  saiil  the  words  he  had 
heard  seemed  just  as  though  spoken  for  him  only.  In 
the  conversation  we  had  togetiier  afterward,  he  ()|)ened 
his  mind  freely  to  me,  and  I  have  good  reason  to  iiope 
that  he  has  found  the  Saviour." 

"  It  was  worth  your  while  to  go  througii  anything  for 
that,"  said  Walter. 

Everything  looked  very  pleasant  when  they  returned 
home.  There  was  a  cheerful  fire  burning  in  tlie 
grate,  and  as  they  had  become  (juitc  chilled  by  tiicir 
long  drive  in  the  rain,  it  was  very  grateful.  Tiic 
tea  table  was  set,  and  they  were  soon  enjoying  the 
delicious  hot  coffee  that  Mrs.  Harley  was  so  skilled  in 
making. 

"  Do  you  have  many  wrecks  here,  vnicle  ? "  said 
Walter,  next  morning  at  breakfast. 

"No;  there  has  not  been  one  for  years,  I  believe. 
There  is  an  old  man  at  Orme's  Cove  who  remembers  the 
last  one  very  vividly ;  we  must  pay  him  a  visit  some  time. 
I  dare  say  he  would  tell  you  all  about  it," 

It  happened  that  the  Thursday  following  was  a  very 
fine  day  ;•  so  it  was  decided  to  go  down  to  Orme's  Cove, 


,_^^g^. 


118 


WAI.TKIl    HAUI.RY'h   CONQITRST. 


I    ? 


It-  !i! 

i  1 
I 


niul  siMJiiil  tlio  nrtoriiooii,  uvniliii},'  tlienwclvos  of  Dtmcon 
Aiulreww'  iiivitiitioii. 

Tho  drive  was  iiidocd  (li-lij^littul.  It  wiis  a  \wriWt  con- 
tract  to  tliat  of  tlin  prwrdiiiK  Sunday.  On  tlic  oiio  side 
Htrftt'liL'<l  tlic  di't'])  blue  ocoaii,  its  ibaiii-cn-stiMl  waves 
liere  dantMig  in  tho  8unl!"'it  there  darkened  by  tlie 
shadow  of  a  ptuwinf?  tdoud.  On  the  other  Hide  wiw  a 
pleasant  prospeet  of  vale  and  hill,  with  green  meadows, 
where  the  mowers  were  busy,  and  here  and  there  a  i>ateh 
of  dark  woods  aa  framework  for  the  picture.  To  those 
accustomed  to  it  the  pro8i)ect  was  a  joy  ;  to  Walter,  from 
the  tamer  scenery  of  his  inland  home,  it  broiii,'ht  an 
ecstasy  ho  had  rarely  known.  And  amid  it  all,  his  heart 
nacended  in  thankfulness  to  the  All-Father  that  he  hud 
made  the  earth  so  beautiful  for  us  to  dwell  in. 


ST. 

vc«  of  Deacon 

1 II  porfoct  con- 
II  the  Olio  side 
•cri'ntud  wuvcs 
•koiiud  by  the 
10  r  side  wiw  a 
roeii  iiioadoWH, 
I  thero  a  imtoli 
lire.  To  tlioHO 
[)  Wtiltor,  fVdin 
it  hroiii^'ht  an 
it  all,  his  iioart 
lor  that  lie  had 
1  in. 


CHAI^rER  XV. 

MR.   FOUD'b  HTORY. 

/\RME'S  COVE  waa  a  (iniet,  secluded  little  bay,  shut 

^     ill  oil  either  side  by  high  cliHa.    At  its  western 

extremity  the  land  dipped  down  toward  the  water,  and  in 

this  pifturos(iue  hollow  nestled  the  little  hamlet  which 

bore  the  same  name  as  the  buy. 

Deacon  Andrews  wiw  out  in  a  field  adjoining  his  house 

when  tiiey  arrived.     He  came  to  meet  them  with  a  hearty 

welcome. 

"If  you  will  excuse  mo.  Deacon  Andrews,"'  said  Mr, 

Harley,  "  I  will  make  some  calls,  now  that  I  am  here. 

I  want  to  go  over  and  see  old  Mr.  Ford,  and  I  think 

my  nephew  would  enjoy  the  walk  with  me."     So  leaving 

Mrs.  Harley  and  baby  with  motherly  Mrs.  Andrews, 

they  set  out  to  visit  Mr.  Ford,  who  lived  about  a  mile 

away. 

"  What  is  that  strange  noise?  "  said  Walter,  after  they 

had  walked  some  distance. 

"What  noise?  '  asked  his  uncle. 

"  It  sounds  like  a  steam  whistle,  only  more  unearthly. 

There !  now  it  sounds  louder." 

149 


^ 


160 


WALTER   HARLEY'S   CONQUEST. 


I    ! 


iiiiili  I 


III 


"  That  is  old  Father  Ocean.  You  shall  soon  see  for 
yourself." 

A  few  steps  more,  and  Mr.  Harley  left  the  road  and 
turned  into  a  well-worn  footpath.  They  followed  it,  the 
noise  growing  louder  and  more  weird  all  the  tinie^  till 
they  came  abruptly  to  a  deep,  narrow  ravine.  Far  be- 
neath tliem  the  surging  waves  came  thundering  in,  and 
dashed  wrathfiuly  against  their  narrow  prison  walls  with 
a  hollow  roar,  flinging  high  a  column  of  misty  spray. 

"This  is  a  grand  sight  in  a  storm,"  said  Mr.  Harley. 
"You  would  run  the  risk  of  getting  a  good  wetting, 
though,  if  you  were  to  stand  as  near  to  the  edge  as  we 
are  now." 

"  How  I  would  like  to  see  it  in  a  storm  1  It  is  grand 
as  it  is,"  said  Walter. 

After  watching  it  for  a  while  they  retraced  their  steps. 
The  highlands  now  disappeared,  and  the  coast  was  low, 
though  still  rocky.  Soon  they  came  in  sight  of  a  cottage 
standing  alone  in  full  view  of  the  sea. 

"  That  is  where  our  old  friend  lives,"  said  Mr.  Harley. 
Everything  was  neatness  itself  about  the  little  cottage. 
The  small  garden  in  front  was  filled  witli  such  hardy 
flowers  as  could  thrive  in  the  cool  sea  breezes,  and 
morning  glories  climbed  up  each  side  of  tlie  porch. 
The  walk  leading  to  the  door  was  paved  with  pebbles 


Q 


i 


''!ij!!i{|iLL 


m^ 


all  soon  see  for 

t  the  road  and 
followed  it,  the 
ill  the  timq,  till 
ivine.  Far  be- 
ndering  in,  and 
rison  walls  with 
misty  spray, 
lid  Mr.  Harley. 
1  good  wetting, 
I  the  edge  as  we 

ni !     It  is  grand 

aced  their  steps. 
B  coast  was  low, 
ight  of  a  cottage 

iaid  Mr.  Harley. 
the  little  cottage. 
,vith  such  hardy 
iea  breezes,  and 
e  of  tlie  porch. 
red  with  pebbles 


WALTER    HAKI.EY's   CONQUEST. 


151 


from  the  seashore ;  the  flower  beds  were  bordered  with 
the  same. 

A  knock  at  the  door  was  soon  answered  by  Mrs.  Ford, 
a  pleasant-faced  old  lady.  Her  husband  sat  in  a  large 
chair  by  the  fire,  nursing  a  rheumatic  leg.  After  some 
general  conversation  about  health  and  so  forth,  Mr, 
Harley  said : 

"My  nephew  was  asking  me  whether  wc  ever  liad 
wrecks  on  this  coast.  I  told  him  you  could  renjember 
the  last.     It  Wiis  some  years  ago,  wa.s  it  not  ?  " 

"Aye,  sir,"  said  the  old  man;  "nigh  upon  seventeen 
years  ago." 

"  Yes,"  broke  in  his  wife  ;  "  seventeen  years  come  next 
November.  Oh,  but  I  shall  never  forget  that  night! 
It  was  an  awful  night !  ' 

"  And  you  remember,  Betsy,  I  said  that  evening, '  What 
a  fearful  night  to  be  on  the  sea ! '  " 

"  Indeed,  well  do  I  remember  it,"  said  Mrs.  Ford. 
Mr.  Ford  continued :  "  By-and-by  Betsy  said  to  me, 
•Abel,  what  is  that  noise? '  *  Oh,'  I  said,  kind  of  careless 
like,  '  I  guess  it  is  only  the  waves  you  hear  rolling  on  the 
shore.'  '  It  sounded  like  a  gun,'  she  said.  Now  Betsy 
always  was  nervous  in  a  storm,  and  always  imagining 
there  were  ships  in  distress ;  so  I  did  not  think  nmch 
about  it.     'There  it  is  again! 'she  cried.    I  heard  it 


t ;  ;l  1 


" '  i''i 


i 


152 


WALTER    ';       lev's   POXQUIiST. 


this  time,  and  it  did  sound  like  a  gun ;  but  I  did  not 
want  her  to  get  frightened,  so  I  said,  *  I  don't  think  it's 
anything  but  the  waves  and  tlie  noise  of  the  wind  rattling 
around  the  house.'  I  went  to  the  window,  however,  and 
looked  out.  All  was  pitcn  dark.  Suddenly  a  rocket 
went  up,  out  by  that  point  down  yonder.  It  just  fairly 
stunned  me  for  a  moment  to  think  tliere  was  a  ship 
in  distress  so  near  our  home,  and  on  such  a  night, 
and  on  those  ugly  snarly  rocks.  Betsy  had  come  to 
the  window,  and  she  saw  the  rocket  too.  '  Oh,  hurry, 
Abel,'  says  she,  'and  go  down  to  the  shore  and  see 
if  you  can  help  them  I'  'I  was  just  thinking  what  we 
can  do,'  says  I ;  '  there  is  no  boat  that  can  live  in  such  a 
sea.'  We  have  no  lifeboat.  '  Well,  do  something,  quick  1 ' 
she  said, '  or  I  will  go  myself.'  The  very  idea  of  her 
going  out  in  the  storm,  who  was  frightened  even  to  look 
at  it!" 

"Yes,"' said  the  old  lady,  "I  am  timid  enough,  I  know; 
but  I  felt  aa  though  I  could  do  anjrthing  to  save  those 
poor  creatures." 

"Well,"  continued  the  old  man,  "I  said,  'You  had 
better  get  the  fire  lit,  and  have  some  hot  tea  and  coffee 
ready ;  for  the  poor  things  will  want  something  to  warm 
them.'  Then  I  put  on  my  storm  coat,  and  took  the 
lantern ;  and  mother  roused  the  boys,  and  two  of  them 


ttB««B«nN*aEE««tBCWsBMn 


-.'.j-^.b. 


'•*"*Ai<'''t>;«-s"-''' .  'i  ■  ■"•-  "<  * W-'- » -J*?'-*." 


TP^ 


EST. 

but  I  did  not 
don't  think  it's 
le  wind  rattling 
V,  however,  and 
denly  a  rocket 
It  just  fairly 
sre  was  a  ship 

such  a  night, 
r  had  come  to 
i.  *  Oh,  hurry, 
shore  and  see 
inking  what  we 
a  live  in  sucli  a 
lething,  quick  I ' 
;ry  idea  of  her 
3d  even  to  look 

nough,  I  know ; 
f  to  save  those 

aid,  'You  had 
tea  and  coffee 

2thing  to  warm 
and  took  the 

id  two  of  them 


WALTER   barley's   CONQUEST.'  153 

went  with  me.  When  we  got  out  on  the  road,  the  first 
pereon  we  met  was  Seth  Jones  coming  up  for  me.  Poor 
fellow !  he  has  been  dead  this  many  a  year !  He  was  a 
connection  of  ours — he  married  Betsy's  cousin ;  he  was 
a  strong  man,  and  a  good  soul;  there  are  few  like  him 
nowadays.  Well,  as  I  was  saying,  he  was  coming  for 
me ;  and  then  some  of  the  neighbors — there  are  not  very 
many — joined  us.  It  seemed  as  though  the  road  to  the 
point  never  was  so  long  before  as  it  was  that  night. 

"While  we  were  going  the  clouds  cleared  away,  and 
by  the  time  we  got  down  there  the  moon  was  shining 
bright  and  clear ;  and  there  was  the  ship  before  us,  not 
a  hundred  yards  from  the  shore;  but  between  us  and 
them  lay  those  rough  jagged  rocks,  and  there  was  a  wild 
sea,  that  would  knock  the  strength  out  of  a  good  swimmer 
in  no  time.  We  could  see  the  decks  were  black  with 
people.  We  began  to  signal  to  them,  and  were  trying  to 
contrive  some  way  to  save  them,  when  there  came  a 
fearful  crash,  and  the  ship  went  to  pieces.  The  hinder 
part  keeled  over  into  the  water,  but  the  fore  part  stuck 
fast  on  the  rocks.  I  pray  I  may  never  see  such  a  si^ht 
again.  It  was  terrible.  There  was  just  one  shriek  of 
agony,  then  it  was  over  for  most  of  them,  poor  things ! 
but  some  were  keeping  up,  battling  with  the  waves,  and 
a  few  reached  the  shore  with  the  life  almost  beaten  out 


-ipp 


in 


WALTER    barley's   CONQUEST. 

of  them.  There  were  still  some  on  the  fore  part 
of  the  vessel,  which,  as  I  was  saying,  was  wedged  in 
the  rocks.  We  knew  they  would  freeze  if  they  had  to 
stay  there  much  longer ;  for  it  was  a  bitter  cold  night, 
and  the  spray  dashed  over  them  as  they  clung  to  the 
rigging.  The  tide  was  going  down  now,  and  we  scram- 
bled out  on  the  rocks  until  near  enough  to  throw  a 
ro])e  to  those  on  the  wreck.  After  they  had  ma-^.e  the 
rojje  fast,  we  slung  a  large  strong  basket  over  the  cable 
leading  to  the  vessel,  fastened  two  ropes  to  the  basket, 
one  of  which  we  held,  throwing  the  other  to  those  on  the 
wreck ;  they  then  drew  the  basket  up  to  the  vessel,  and 
one  by  one  we  drew  them  over  to  us.  The  first  to  come 
over  was  a  young  woman  with  a  child  in'  her  arms,  a 
little  girl  about  tif^o  years  old,  I  suppose ;  she  had  taken 
off  her  own  shawl  to  wrap  around  it.  The  child  was  all 
right  enough,  but  the  mother  was  well-nigh  gone.  We 
hoped  she  would  have  revived,  and  carried  her  into  a 
house  near  by, — Jim  Ryan's,  a  mere  shanty  of  a  place, — 
but  she  never  spoke,  and  died  in  a  few  hours.  I  took 
the  child  in  my  arms,  and  carried  it  over  to  our  home. 
It  w!is  sobbing  and  fretting  like,  with  its  face  hid  on  my 
shoulder.  I  brought  it  in,  and  said,  '  Here,  mother,  is  a 
little  daughter  for  you.'  We  had  no  girls,  and  mother 
was  always  pining  for  oue.    ^  ad,  do  you  believe,  when 


>-s,'i'='-£vv-f?:-:'--^->-.- 


T^of^wrms. 


JEST. 


WAI-TER    IIARLEYS   CONQUEST. 


155 


the  fore  part 
was  wedged  in 
;e  if  they  had  to 
litter  cold  night, 
ley  clung  to  the 
',  and  we  scram- 
ugh  to  throw  a 
y  had  nia'^.e  the 
t  over  the  cable 
8  to  the  basket, 
r  to  those  on  the 
[)  the  vessel,  and 
rhe  first  to  come 
in  her  arms,  a 
I ;  she  had  taken 
'be  child  was  all 
[ligh  gone.  We 
■ried  her  into  a 
nty  of  a  place, — 
V  hours.  I  took 
3r  to  our  home. 
i  face  hid  on  my 
ere,  mother,  is  a 
iris,  and  mother 
)u  believe,  when 


that  cliild  saw  my  wife,  it  just  stretched  o'll  its  little 
hands  and  went  right  to  her,  and  never  (retted  any 
more." 

"Aye,  the  dear  wee  thing,'  broke  in  the  old  dame, 
"  how  it  went  to  my  heart  to  have  it  come  so  confiding 
like  to  me." 

"  Well,"  continued  the  old  man,  "  we  never  could  find 
out  anything  about  her  or  her  family.  None  of  the  persons 
saved  knew  anything  about  her  mother,  except  that  she 
was  one  of  the  emigrants.  Her  father  was  drowned  wlieu 
the  vessel  broke  up,  they  said.  So  we  just  took  her  for  our 
own,  and  brought  her  up.  People  said  we  were  foolish, 
and  that  she  might,  be  put  on  the  parish  ;  but  Betsy  and  I 
felt  that  she  was  sent  to  us,  and  we  would  share  what 
little  we  had  with  her.  I  gi'ess  she  always  thought  that 
•we  were  her  parents,  and  the  boys  were  as  fond  of  her  as 
though  she  was  their  own  sister.  One  day,  when  she 
was  well  grown,  she  said  :  '  I  don't  know  how  it  is,  but 
I  am  always  frightened  in  a  storm.  I  feel  as  though  I 
had  been  out  in  one  some  time,  but  I  can't  recollect.'  I 
thought  the  time  had  come  when  she  had  better  know 
all,  and  I  told  her.  From  that  time  she  seemed  as  though 
she  could  never  do  enough  for  us.  Such  a  good  girl  aa 
she  is !  She  is  out  now  taking  some  work  to  a  lady  for 
whom  she  sews.    Many  a  time  folks  say  to  her,  '  Why 


iiH 


i';  ■'■< 


fia^rm 


I 


166  WALTER    barley's   CONQUEST, 

don't  you  go  up  to  Ll  e  city  ?  You  could  do  better  there.' 
But  she  says,  'I'll  not  leave  father  ana  mother  while 
they  need  nie.  I  owe  everything  to  them,  and  all  I  can 
do  for  them  is  little  enough.'  ' 

"  I  am  sure  I  dont  know  what  the  house  would  be  like 
without  her,"  said  Mrs.  Ford ;  "that storm,  dreadful  as  it 
was,  brought  us  a  blessing  which  we  shall  always  be 
thankful  for.     Here  she  comes  now,  I  believe." 

The  door  opened,  and  a  fresh-faced,  pleasant-looking 
girl  entered.  It  was  easy  to  see  what  a  comfort  she  must 
be  to  the  aged  and  infirm  couple,  who  regarded  her  with 
such  fondness  and  pride.  The  young  girl's  face  beamed 
with  pleasure  as  Mr.  Harley,  who  knew  she  was  fond  of 
reading  and  study,  promised  to  lend  her  soine  books. 

Before  leaving,  Mr.  Harley  brought  out  his  pocket 
Testament  and  read  a  few  verses,  and  then  offered  prayer, 
after  whicli  they  bade  good-bye  to  the  old  couple  and 
Margery,  and  were  soon  on  their  way,  walking  briskly ; 
for  the  afternoon  was  waning,  and  Mr.  Harley  was 
anxious  to  pay  some  more  visits  at  Orme's  Cove. 

Walter  now  left  his  uncle  and  went  back  to  Deacon 
Andrews. 

Mr.  Harley  returned  just  in  time  '^r  tea.  They  were 
all  entertained  hospitably  by  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Andrews, 
Baby  Paul  receiving  a  large  share  of  attention.    After 


"w- 


lUEST. 

d  do  better  there.' 
lUG  mother  while 
3m.  and  all  I  can 

)use  would  be  like 
irm,  dreadful  aa  it 
I  shall  always  be 
•elieve." 

,  pleasant-looking 
comfort  she  must 
egarded  her  with 
jirl's  face  beamed 
f  she  was  fond  of 
■  some  books, 
t  out  his  pocket 
en  offered  prayer, 
3  old  couple  and 
walking  briskly ; 
Mr.  Harley  was 
b's  Cove, 
back  to  Deacon 


WAi.TEi;    HAR)[,EY  S   CO.\QIJI>T. 


157 


!H 


the  evening  meal  some  of  the  neigiibors  came  in,  and  a 
short,  pleasant  service  was  held,  for  the  people  of  Orrae'a 
Cove  had  but  few  meetings  to  attend. 

As  they  were  driving  home,  they  agreed  they  had 
spent  a  very  pleasant  afterno'^:.  It  was  a  little  break  in 
the  week's  routine.  Mrs.  Harley  and  the  baby  had  been 
well  entertained  in  the  Andrews'  home,  Mr.  Harley  had 
comtf  into  a  renewed  closeness  of  contact  nlih  some  of  the 
humbler  of  his  people,  and  Walter  had  been  interested 
in  the  rugged  beauty  of  the  coast,  and  in  the  story  of  the 
wreck  which  Mr.  Ford  hud  told.  Yes,  they  had  spent  a 
pleasant  and  profitable  afleruoon. 


I     * 


M 


tea.  They  were 
i  Mrs.  Andrews, 
attention.    After 


1 


CHAPTER  XVI. 


PHILIP  RAY. 


SATURDAY  morning,  as  Walter  was  leisurely  stroll- 
ing along  the  streets  of  Fairhaven,  he  heard  a  voice 
behind  say : 

"  Walter,  how  are  you  ?  " 

"  Why,  Philip ! "  he  exclaimed,  turning  suddenly  to 
meet  a  familiar  face,  "  how  came  you  here  ?  " 

"I  am  teaching  for  tiic  summer  months  in  a  small 
school  about  four  miles  distant.  They  have  been  having 
holidays ;  but,  as  you  know,  the  vacation  is  sliorter  in 
country  schools  than  in  town  schools,  so  I  have  to  go  to 
work  Monday ;  that  is  what  brings  me  here.  Now,  may 
I  ask  how  you  happened  to  be  down  this  way  ?  " 

"  I  am  visiting  my  uncle,  Mr.  Harley,  who  is  pastor  of 
a  church  here." 

"  Oh,  yes,  1  know.  I  did  not  think  about  his  being 
your  uncle.  I  am  glad  we  shall  have  an  opportunity  to 
see  one  another.     It  is  nearly  a  year  since  we  met." 

Philip  Ray  was  an  intimate  friend  of  AValter.  He  was 
three  years  older,  and  looked  quite  manly  ;  but  in  spite 
of  the  difference  in  years,  they  had  been  warm  friends 

m 


y  \  i^d.,:;,s^.„,.^^^i.mm>i^<ikiik.^<t^m 


i  leisurely  stroll- 
he  heard  a  voice 


ing  suddenly  to 
re?" 

)uths  in  a  small 
ave  been  having 
on  18  shorter  in 
)  I  have  to  go  to 
lere.  Now,  may 
way?" 
who  is  pastor  of 

about  his  being 
1  opportunity  to 
.•e  we  met." 
IValter.  He  was 
ly ;  but  in  spite 
m  warm  friends 


f 


WALTER    HARLEY's  CONQUEST. 


159 


ever  since,  as  a  small  boy,  Walter  entered  the  academy, 
and  Philip,  then  in  the  advanced  class,  took  his  part  on  the 
playground,  and  helped  him  out  in  his  Latin  exercises. 
The  previous  autumn  Philip  had  left  Knowlton  to  attend 
college,  some  distance  away ;  and  as  he  did  not  come 
home  at  Christmas,  the  two  friends  had  not  met  since, 
and  in  all  that  time  had  not  written  more  than  two  or 
three  letters  to  each  other,  in  spite  of  resolves  to  corre- 
spond regularly.  So  they  had  much  to  talk  about  as  tliey 
walked  down  the  .street  together. 

In  appearnnce,  Philip  presented  quite  a  contrast  to  hia 
friend.  He  was  taller  and  darker,  and  had  the  thought- 
ful air  of  a  student.  Naturally  quiet  and  reserved,  he 
was  called  proud  by  those  who  did  not  know  him ;  but 
Walter  knew  him  better  tlum  to  think  tliat.  He  was 
characterized  by  singular  sincerity  and  unaffectation  ;  and 
when  once  persuaded  of  the  right,  held  to  it  with  a  quiet 
determination  in  the  face  of  all  opposition  that  at  once 
won  Walter's  respect  and  admiration. 

They  had  to  part  soon,  as  Philip  had  business  to  attend 
to ;  but  they  planned  for  a  long  ramble  in  the  afternoon. 

"  College  life  has  improved  Philip,"  thought  Walter, 
as  he  walked  homeward,  for  there  was  more  heartiness 
of  manner,  more  enthusiasm,  more  life  about  him  than 
he  had  ever  seen  before.  ^  , 


'-■ y  :. ....    »■: 


160 


WALTRU    IIAIILKYS   CO.VQUE8T. 


i  I 


m  i 


w,\  i 


i 

il ' 


Of  course,  tlipy  found  plenty  to  talk  about  in  their 
afternoon  ramble.  Walter  was  anxious  to  hear  Philip's 
college  experiences,  while  Philip  had  many  inquiries  to 
make  about  old  acquaintances.  They  had  walked  some 
distance,  when  Philip  proposed  to  rest  a  while,  and 
making  tlieir  way  across  a  field,  they  came  to  a  grassy 
slope  that  descended  toward  the  sandy  shore,  stretching 
itself  out  just  beneath.  They  threw  themselves  down  on 
the  green  sward. 

It  was  a  warm  afternoon,  and  a  light  haze  softened  the 
deep  blue  of  the  sky,  and  hung  like  a  veil  about  the 
horizon.  No  .sound  was  heard  save  the  tinkle  of  a  sheep 
bell  from  a  flock  grazing  near  at  hand,  and  the  miisical 
splashing  of  the  waves  as  they  broke  on  the  pebbly  beach. 
The  quiet  and  peace  that  brooded  over  nature  threw  its 
spell  over  our  two  young  friends,  and  for  a  while  little 
was  said  by  either  of  them.  • 

"  I  sliall  never  regret  that  1  was  led  to  go  to  Brantley 
College,"  Pliilip  said  at  length ;  "  all  the  influences  there 
are  so  good.  There  were  a  half  dozen  or  more  Christian 
young  men  when  I  went  there.  We  held  a  prayer  meet- 
ing together ;  others  joined  our  little  band,  and  there  was 
a  great  revival  last  winter  botli  in  the  college  and  in  the 
village." 

"Yes,  I  heard  about  it,"  said  Walter.  -^  '•    ' 


iiiiiiLi. 


rE8T. 

about  in  their 
to  hear  Philiji's 
iiiny  inquiries  to 
ad  walked  some 
t  a  while,  and 
ime  to  a  grassy 
ghore,  stretehing 
iisolves  down  on 

laze  softened  the 
veil  about  the 
inkle  of  a  sheep 
[ind  the  musical 
:ie  pebbly  beach, 
nature  threw  its 
"or  a  while  little 

0  go  to  Brantley 
influences  there 
r  more  Christian 
i  a  prayer  meet- 
[1,  and  there  was 
)llege  and  in  the 


Wiilter  Uiiilcy's  Comnieat. 


I'lige  16". 


WALTKU    HAULKY8   CON<ilT*><T. 


161 


"Not  only  dill  nmny  then  boj,'iii  i\w  CliriHtian  life," 
contiiiiK'il  Pliilip;  "  l)iit  I  tliiiik  every  one  of  iin  wiw 
quickened  and  revived.  I  know  for  my  own  part  that 
life  Meenis  very  different  from  what  it  once  did.  You 
know,  Walter,  I  used  to  do  thingH  because  it  was  my 
duty ;  but  now  I  cannot  tell  what  glad>i(»i  it  givcH  mo  to 
serve  my  Master.  1  can  truly  say,  '  The  love  he  Iuih  kin- 
dled within  mc  makes  Hcrvice  and  Hufferinj,'  Hweet.'  " 

As  the  young  man  8])(^kc,  such  a  light  came  into  his 
fiice  as  Walter  had  never  seen  there  before.  After  a 
moment's  jiauso,  Philip  continued  : 

"  There  is  such  reality,  such  Siitisfaction  in  it.  I  used 
to  feel  it  hard  to  abstain  from  worldly  amusements  which 
1  did  not  think  were  consistent  with  a  profession  of 
religion;  but  now  they  seem  so  poor — so  paltry!  I 
wonder  I  ever  cared  for  them.  Oh,  Walter,'  turning  his 
dark  eyes  on  his  friend,  "  he  that  driukcth  of  the  water 
that  Christ  gives  '  shall  ?i«rer  third.'  I  believed  it  once ; 
I  know  it  now. ' 

Walter  pondered :  Was  this  the  reason  for  the  change 

in  Philij)  ?    He  remembered  his  friend  as  he  was  when 

at  Knowlton  ?     Philip  had  always  been  a  good  boy,  and 

when  he  joined  the  church  which  he  attended  no  one  was 

surprised ;  anc   iftcrward  he  continued  on  the  even  tenor 

of  his  way,  never  very  enthusiastic,  but  always  in  bia 

I. 


162 


WALTKU   UARLEY's   CONQUEST. 


place  at  the  Sunday  and  week-day  services.  Walter  felt 
in  a  dim  way  that  his  friend  had  gone  beyond  him  into  an 
experience  to  which  he  had  not  yet  attained.  He  did 
not  Jtnow  that  he  had  ever  felt  unsatisfied.  Life  seemed 
full  of  pleasant  things,  and  as  yet  lie  knew  not  the  power- 
lessness  of  even  tlie  best  earthly  joys  to  satisfy  the  deeper 
longir.gs  of  the  soul.  Something  like  this  he  said  to 
Philip. 

"  You  cannot  live  long  in  a  world  like  this,''  replied 
his  friend,  "  without  having  felt  soul  thirst ;  and  we  are 
all  too  apt  to  hew  out  '  broken  cisterns  tiiat  can  hold 
no  water.'  But  soon  we  find  out  our  mistake,  anC.  come 
back  to  '  the  living  foimtains.'  " 

There  was  a  pause  for  a  few  moments ;  then  the  con- 
versation took  another  turn.  Philip  began  to  speak  of 
the  hope  he  cherished  of  some  day  going  over  to  Edin- 
buigh  to  study.  All  liis  mother's  relatives  lived  iu  Scot- 
land, and  he  naturally  wished  to  sec  them  and  visit  her 
early  home.  Walter  declared  that  he  would  go  too,  and 
they  built  delightful  castles  in  the  air  of  pleasant  excur- 
sions together,  and  talked  about  the  old  country  until  it 
seemed  to  come  very  near. 

Philip  looked  out  to  sea  with  a  for-f.  ay  gaze,  as  though 
he  saw  the  land  of  his  dreams ;  or  did  his  eyes  behold 
another  land— a  land  that  is  very  far  ofl'?     If  the  Master 


. 


^■'"•-.^Jlm 


IT. 


WALTER   HARLEY'S   CONQUEST. 


163 


,  Walter  felt 
id  him  into  an 
ined.  He  did 
Life  seemed 
Qot  the  powcr- 
Isfy  tlie  deeper 
lis  he  said   to 

I  this,''  replied 
it ;  and  we  are 
that  can  hold 
ake,  aiu'  come 

;  then  the  con- 
an  to  speak  of 
over  to  Edin- 
i  lived  id  Scot- 
1  and  visit  her 
iild  go  too,  and 
pleasant  excur- 
jountry  until  it 

gaze,  as  though 

lis  eyes  behold 

If  the  Master 


should  call  him,  was  he  willing  to  go  there  instead  of 
over  the  ocean?  Such  were  the  thoughts  that  passed 
through  Waltei"'s  mind.  As  he  looked  on  that  calm, 
trustful  face,  he  seemed  to  hear  the  answer :  "  Ready, 
aye,  ready."  But  he  quickly  dismissed  these  thoughts. 
Philip  could  not  die;  he  looked  the  picture  of  health. 
Yet  Walter  knew  that  he  inherited  that  deadly  disease, 
consumption,  of  which  his  father  had  died.  Even  at  that 
moment  Philip  coughed  slightly. 

"We  have  stayed  here  too  long;  you  feel  chilled," 
exclaimed  Walter. 

"Oh,  dear  me,  no," said  Philip.  But  he  rose,  and  they 
turned  their  steps  homeward. 

Walter's  friend  was  warmly  welcomed  by  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Harley,  who  invited  him  to  spend  every  Saturday 
and  Sunday  with  them  while  he  taught  in  the  neighbor- 
hood. Philip  was  very  glad  to  accept  the  invitation  ;  for 
the  place  where  he  taught  was  rather  rough,  and  every- 
thing was  so  homelike  at  the  parsonage. 

Tuesday  was  a  busy  day  with  the  Harleys,  for  the 
Sunday-school  picnic  was  to  be  held  the  following  day, 
and  of  course  Mrs.  Harley,  who  was  a  teacher,  expected 
to  prepare  bountifully.  Mr.  Harley  had  to  go  away  a 
short  distance  for  the  day  on  churcu  business ;  Mrs.  Har- 
ley rose  early  to  get  him  some  breakfast,  as  lie  had  to 


114 


WALTER   HARLEYS  CONQUEST. 


leave  by  the  seven  o'clock  train.  She  planned  to  have 
then  a  long  day  in  which  to  do  her  baking.  But  alaa, 
for  the  "  best  laid  plans "  I  the  middle  of  the  morning 
found  her  on  a  sofa  in  a  darkened  room,  sufl'ering  all  the 
misery  of  a  severe  headache;  and  the  young  and  rather 
inexperienced  servant,  Bessie,  was  left  to  finisli  the 
baking  alone.  Somewhat  fluttered  by  not  having  her 
mistress  at  liand  to  direct,  her  nervousness  was  increased 
when  Baby  Paul,  thinking  that  he  had  been  good  long 
enough,  began  to  scream,  and  refused  to  be  pacified. 

Away  up  in  his  room  sat  Walter,  trying  to  work  out 
anewflm  to  some  puzzles  in  a  religious  newspaper.  He 
was  so  interested  that  he  scarcely  noticed  the  commotion 
baby  was  making,  till  he  heard  Bessie  say :  "  Oh,  baby 
dear,  keep  quiet,  until  I  get  th^^e  pies  out  of  the  oven ;" 
and  then  he  remembered  that  his  aunt  was  sick,  and 
there  was  no  one  to  do  anything  but  Bessie.  "  I  wonder 
if  I  could  help,"  he  thought.  "  I'll  go  and  see.  I  sup- 
pose if  I  could  quiet  Master  Paul  it  would  be  the  best 
thing."  He  found  Bessie  looking  very  flushed  and 
worried,  doing  the  work  with  the  baby  on  one  arm. 

"  Perhaps  baby  will  be  good  with  me,"  said  Walter, 
taking  him  somewhat  awkwardly. 

"  I  believe  he  would  be  good  if  he  was  to  go  out  in  his 
carriage,"  said  Bessie. 


^s^^^y^^^K^»;i*S; ->-*    ■  ft-f-i^f^ 


1 


-!f*r 


T. 

nned  to  have 
g.     But  alas, 
the  morning 
R'ering  all  the 
ig  and  rather 
to    finisli    the 
it  having  her 
was  increased 
sen  good  long 
pacified, 
g  to  work  out 
wspapcr.    He 
he  commotion 
y :  "  Oh,  baby 
of  the  oven ;" 
was  sick,  and 
e.     "  I  wonder 
d  see.     I  sup- 
Id  be  the  best 
'   flushed    and 
one  arm. 
"  said  Walter, 

0  go  out  in  his 


WALTKK    HABLEY's   CONC^UEST. 


165 


"All  right ;  wrap  him  up,  and  I  will  take  him." 

Baby  kicked  and  screamed  lustily  while  his  things 
were  being  put  on,  and  when  at  last  he  was  tucked  in  the 
carriage,  divi  not  look  nearly  so  trim  as  when  Mrs.  Har- 
ley  sent  him  out. 

"What's  the  difference?"  said  Walter;  "I  will  only 
take  him  into  the  field." 

When  the  carriage  was  once  in  motion  baby  quieted 
down,  and  by-and-by  fell  asleep;  then  Walter  brought 
him  back.  Bessie  drew  the  carriage  into  the  shade,  threw 
the  mosquito  netting  over  it,  aud  tlieu  ran  back  to  work. 

"  My !  it  is  after  twelve.  I'll  never  get  through ! "  ex- 
claimed Bessie,  in  dismay. 

"  Here,  give  me  those  raisins ;  I  will  stone  tliem  for 
you,  while  you  make  the  cake,"  said  Walter. 

Then  he  whipped  the  eggs,  and  finally  took  his  turn 
at  beating  up  the  cake.  He  grew  very  interested  in  hia 
cake,  as  he  called  it,  and  declared  he  would  write  home 
tt.;>t  he  had  become  quite  a  cook. 

Baby  did  not  wake  until  after  dinner,  or  rather  lunch, 
tor  Walter  said,  "  Don't  bother  about  cooking  dinner  for 
me."  Late  in  the  afternoon  Mrs.  Harley  ca<me  down, 
feeling  much  better. 

"  You  have  been  such  a  comfort  to  me,  Walter ! "  she 
said.     "  It  distressed  me  so  to  hear  baby  cry  and  know 


"ftf 


1 


■-jfiPW^vi-WseTHfeliWBirilr^a^WP**^  -'■ 


§p 


.  JL 


'lit  111 


ij       'ii' 


;l  ''"iii 


Jh 


iJWi 


I'l 


V.  i'  ;.* 


m 


166 


WALTER    IIAKLEY's   CONQUEST. 


that  I  could  not  go  to  him ;  and  after  you  succeeded  in 
quieting  him  so  nicely,  I  was  able  to  rest." 

The  morning  of  the  picnic  dawned  bright  and  clear. 
They  were  all  astir  early  at  the  parsonage,  packing  up 
baskets,  and  getting  everything  ready  to  start  by  the  train 
At  the  train,  all  was  hurry  and  excitement.  The  members 
of  the  committee  had  their  hands  full,  gettmg  the  children 
safely  into  the  cars,  and  seeing  that  the  base  balls  o.id 
bats,  football  and  croquet  sets,  were  all  on  board,  to  Su 
nothing  of  having  the  provisions  safel}  stowed  away, 
At  last  "  All  aboard  "  was  called,  tlie  stragglers  jumper? 
on,  and  the  train  glided  out  of  the  station,  L'.nd  wua  :;oon 
rushing  along  by  meadows  and  woodlands  with  .it,-i  "e- 
cious  freight. 

After  about  im  hours  ride  they  stor.ned  ai  the  station 
near  which  w<vr  iLt  picnic  groiuids.  The  shortest  way 
to  reach  them  was  .I'^r  .. ;,  ;»  ^ile,  and  this  was  chosen  by 
most  of  ■■\-'i  party.  Mr.  H  I'.ey  and  the  superint'.ud- 
ent  of  the  Sunday-sciioc ;  were  busy  seeing  that  all  the 
boxes  and  baskets  were  taken  ofi"  and  put  on  the  wagon 
that  was  waiting  to  transfer  them  to  the  groupds.  Two 
of  the  young  men  took  their  stand  by  the  stile,  and  lifted 
the  little  ones  across,  and  helped  a  party  of  young  girls 
to  climb  over,  and  then  sauntered  off  with  them,  leaving 
the  rest  to  get  over  the  best  way  they  could.    These 


■iP" 


rm 


succeeded  in 

;lit  and  clear. 
?,  packing  up 
t  by  the  train, 
The  members 
g  tlie  children 
aae  balls  a -id 
.  board,  to  sji; 
stowed  away, 
rglerH  junipe*! 
I'.nd  wua  ;;oon 
with  its     'e- 

M  the  station 
3  shortest  way 
vas  chosen  by 
!  superinL'.iid- 
y  that  all  the 
on  the  wagon 
froupds.  Two 
jtile,  and  lifted 
of  young  girls 
1  them,  leaving 
could.    These 


WAIiTER    HARLEY's   CONQUEST, 


167 


were  a  number  of  middle-aged  women,  some  of  them 
with  babies,  and  all  more  or  less  burdened  with  wraps. 

Walter,  wlio  happened  to  be  standing  near,  stepped  up 
and  assisted  them  over  with  all  possible  gallantry.  It 
seemed  a  very  little  thing  to  do,  but  it  made  quite  an  . 
impression  on  their  minds.  "He  is  the  nicest  boy  I  ever 
saw,''  said  one  poor  mother  to  anotlier,  "  helping  us  all  to 
get  over  that  stile,  as  handsome  like  as  though  we  had 
been  young  girls." 

Walter  was  already  a  great  favorite  in  his  uncle's  con- 
gregation, his  genial  manner  and  kindly  disposition 
making  him  very  i)opular,  alike  with  young  and  old. 
All  day  he  was  busy  as  could  l)e.  Fow  swinging  the 
children,  now  foremost  in  a  game  of  football,  now  lead- 
ing in  a  race — ready  for  all  the  fun  that  was  going,  and 
to  help  along  every  one's  enjoyment.  No  ,onder  that 
at  the  close  of  the  day  he  should  say  he  "  had  had  just  a 
splendid  time." 

Philip  had  asked  Walter  to  come  out  on  a  Friday 
morning,  and  see  his  school,  and  stay  over  night  I'.t  the 
farmhouse  where  he  boarded,  and  then  they  would  walk 
into  Fairhaven  on  Saturd;vy  moruing.  "  That  is,"  he  had 
added,  "  if  you  are  willing  to  rough  it."  W'uter  was 
quite  willing.  So,  on  Friday  morning,  his  uncle  drove 
him  to  the  little  old  schoolhouse  where  Philip  taught. 


■< 


«sytes*si'.-. 


168 


WALTKIl    HAKl-KYS   CONQUEST. 


Two  score  or  more  of  bright  eyes  turned  toward  the 
door  as  Walter  entered.  It  was  tlie  first  time  he  had 
ever  entered  a  school  aa  a  visitor ;  and  as  he  seated  him- 
self in  the  rickety  chair  which  Philip  offered  him, — the 
only  one  in  fact  in  the  room, — a  broad  smile  crept  over 
his  face  at  the  mere  thought  of  occupying  so  distin- 
guislied  a  position.  Then  he  tried  to  put  on  a  grave 
face,  suitable  to  tiie  occasion,  as  Philip  called  up  a  class 
in  reading  and  handed  him  a  book.  While  the  little 
bright-eyed  boys  and  girls  were  reading  more  or  less 
fluently,  Walter  was  taking  mental  notes  of  the  room — 
such  a  funny  little  schoolroom,  with  a  big  stove  in  one 
corner,  and  a  little  plati'  i  'u  for  the  teacher  in  another; 
and  on  one  wall  a  small  and  very  poor  blackboard,  on 
which  it  was  impossibl  ^  to  make  good  figures.  And  then 
the  pupils — some  very  bright-looking  and  some  dull ;  all 
of  them  rather  roughly  dressed,  and  ranging  fi'om  a  tall 
lad  of  fourteen  down  to  little  tots  of  six  and  seven. 

After  the  reading  was  ended,  there  came  a  recess. 
During  its  progress,  Philip  and  Walter  stood  in  the  door- 
way, watching  the  children  as  they  raced  about. 

"How  can  you  teach,  Philip?"  said  Walter.  "I 
never  could  do  it.  Is  it  not  tiresome  now  to  spend  your 
days  trying  to  drum  arithmetic  and  grammar  and  history 
into  the  heads  of  these  little  scamps?"  ' 


-TV 


1 


ST. 


WAI.TKB    .UAKLKYS   CONQUJ-iiT. 


169 


ed  toward  the 
L  time  he  had 
he  seated  hirn- 
srcd  hiiu, — ihe 
tiile  crept  over 
I'ing  so  distin- 
ut  on  a  grave 
lied  up  a  class 
Hiile  the  little 
f  more  or  less 
of  the  room — 
g  stove  in  one 
ler  in  another ; 
blackboard,  on 
res.  And  then 
some  dull ;  all 
ing  from  a  tall 
nd  seven. 
L'ame  a  recess, 
od  in  the  door- 
about. 

;  Walter.  "I 
'  to  spend  your 
uar  and  history 


Philip  smiled.  "  Yj3,  it  is  wearisome  sometimes ;  yet 
I  must  siiy  T  like  tvaobii>g.  I  hope  to  spend  my  life  in  it; 
not  teaching  a  school  like  this,  though.  But  even  here 
I  have  some  pupils  who  iiitcrei't  me  very  much.  That 
tall  lad  is  really  very  thoughtful." 

"  What — the  one  who  does  not  seem  to  know  what  to 
with  his  arms  and  legs'?" 

"  Yes ;  he  docs  not  show  to  nmch  advantage  in  this 
cramped  schoolroom,  and  he  i?  very  I'ustic,  but  I  am 
sure  he  has  the  making  of  a  good  man  in  him.  And 
there  are  other  boys  not  hert;  now,  in  whom  I.  feel  a  great 
interest;  and  if  I  have  been  able  to  help  one  to  step 
upward  toward  anything  like  nobler  id(>as  of  life,  and 
a  true  manliood  or  womanhood,  I  sliall  never  regi-et 
that  I  spent  this  summer  here." 

After  school,  Walter  went  with  Philip  to  his  boarding 
house.  It  was  truly  very  rough ;  and  as  Walter  con- 
trasted this  abode  with  the  refined,  pleasant  home  to 
which  Philip  was  accustomed,  he  wondered  more  and 
more  how  he  could  put  up  with  it. 

"  What  would  your  mother  say  if  she  knew  how  you 
are  situated  here  ?  "  said  Waiter. 

"  Well,  she  does  not  know  ;  and  I  am  glad  she  doesn't. 
I  want  to  earn  all  I  can  to  help  me  through  with  my 
studies,  for  my  mother  has  little  enough  ;  and  it  is  diffi- 


:  !    . 


r^ 


i 


170 


WALTER    HAULEY's   CONQUEST. 


cult  to  get  a  better  scihool  wlien  one  can  only  teach 
during  the  summer  months." 

"  At  any  rate,  you  can  spend  Saturday  and  Sunday 
with  uncle  and  aunt." 

"  Yea,"  replied  Philip ;  "  tliough  I  think,  after  this 
week,  I  shall  not  spend  the  whole  of  Sunday  with  them. 
There  is  a  small  Sunday-school  here,  but  I  found  the 
larger  boys  did  not  attend.  I  gathered  a  chvss  of  them, 
and  I  do  not  Avish  to  give  it  up ;  so  I  shall  walk  out  here 
after  morning  service,  to  be  ready  for  my  class  at  half- 
past  two." 

"  Philip,  how  can  you  deny  yourself  so  much  that  you 
like?"  said  Walter,  impetuously. 

"  It  is  not  all  self-denial,  Walter  ;  I  feel  it  a  privilege 
to  work  for  the  Mjvster,  and  sow  good  seed  a.s  I  have 
opportunity." 

Walter  said  nothing ;  but  his  friend's  consecration  and 
devotedness  made  a  deep  impression  on  his  mind.     Ah !    • 
who  can  estimate  the  power  of  a  life  wholly  for  Christ ! 

Walter's  visit  was  drawing  near  its  close.  He  had 
been  for  some  days  thinking  over  a  pleasant  plan.  The 
Sunday-school  connected  with  his  uncle's  church  was 
sadly  in  need  of  books.  Walter  thought  how  much  he 
would  like  to  give  something  handsome  toward  getting  a 
library ;  but  how  to  do  it  was  the  que^tion.    He  did  not  • 


W" 


i 


;an  only  tench 
ly  and  Sunday 

link,  after  this 
day  with  them, 
ut  I  found  the 
I  chiss  of  them, 
il  walk  out  here 
ly  class  at  half- 
much  that  you 

el  it  a  privilege 
seed  as  I  have 

onsecration  and 
liis  mind.  Ah ! 
ly  for  Christ! 
close.  He  had 
sant  plan.  The 
e'a  church  was 
t  how  much  he 
oward  getting  a 
m.    He  did  not 


WALTER    HABLEYS   CONQUEST. 


171 


want  to  ask  his  father  for  money,  as  he  wished  it  to  be 
his  own  gift.  At  length  a  thought  occurred  to  liim.  He 
had  begun  to  save  a  part  of  eacli  month's  allowance,  so 
aa  to  have  plenty  to  spend  on  Christmas  gifts ;  for  he 
delighted  to  give  handsome  presents  to  all  his  friends. 
Now  the  thought  came.  Could  he  not  devote  this  money 
to  the  Sunday-school,  and  set  brain  and  hands  at  work 
to  contrive  little  inexpensive  gifts  for  his  friends,  which 
might  be  all  the  more  valued  because  of  being  his  own 
handiwork  ?  He  l)egan  to  plan  these  gifts  ;  and  his  uncle, 
who  was  clever  at  devising  pretty  and  useful  things  in 
wood,  gave  him  many  good  suggestions.  Walter  did  not, 
however,  tell  his  uncle  of  his  intended  gift  to  the  Fair- 
haven  school,  as  he  wislied  it  to  be  a  surprise. 

The  afternoon  before  he  left  Fairhaven,  he  was  sitting 
with  his  uncle,  who  was  telling  him  of  the  difficulties  his 
church  had  to  contend  with,  the  members  being  for  the 
most  part  poor,  and  unable  to  contribute  very  much 
toward  its  support. 

«  I  wish  I  had  plenty  of  money,  I  would  do  so  much 
good  with  it,"  said  Walter. 

"Use  faithfully  what  you  have;  that  is  all  that  is 
required  of  you  now,"  said  his  uncle.  "  Do  not  wait 
until  you  can  do  great  things,  but  seize  every  small 
opportunity  of  doing  good;  but  that  indeed  I  know  you 


J. 


I'  m 

•  li  '-11 


'II ' 

w 


<M  r     '<'H!I 


i    ! 


m 


172  WALTEu  haui.ey's  conquest. 

do.  I  know  of  some  one  we  shall  miss  very  much  when 
he  is  gone." 

"  I  am  very  glud  you  think  m,"  said  Walter,  a  glow  of 
pleasure  uiouutiug  to  his  face  at  his  uncle's  kindly  words. 

"  After  all,"  continued  Mr.  Harley,  "  we  cannot  call 
anything  small.  A  trivial  action  may  have  a  wonderful 
power  for  good  or  ill." 

"  I  have  come  to  think  that  lately  more  than  I  used 
to,"  said  Walter. 

"  And  then  do  not  forget  that  being  is  as  important  as 
doing — is,  in  fact,  essential.  Be  brave  and  patient  and 
kind  and  gentle  and  courteous,  and  you  cannot  fail  to 
help  others,  as  well  as  yourself  Some  may  be  entirely 
shut  out  from  doing,  none  are  debarred  from  being. 
All  of  Christ's  followers  may  glorify  him." 

"  Yes,"  said  Walter.  "  I  know  one  must  be  good 
before  he  can  do  good." 

"  That  is  it,"  replied  Mr.  Harley.  "  Be  sure  and  build 
up  the  Christian  character  which  shall  lie  back  of  all 
your  works,  and  make  them  effective  ;  and  that  you  can 
do  now,  each  day. ' 

Sojiicthing  ju-it  then  brought  Ned  Brookes  into 
Walter's  mind ;  and  he  told  his  uncle  his  difficulties  with 
regard  to  his  classmate,  ending  up  with,  "  I  cannot  see 
that  it  is  my  fault  that  he  prefers  the  company  of  those 


■BIS 


>  ^  V-f ..V-^  !^  ^Ts^i.-r-^  ^yj'i 


1 


EST. 

ery  much  wheu 

^iiltor,  a  glow  of 
s's  kindly  words, 
wc  oaiiuot  cttll 
we  a  wonderful 

ore  than  I  used 

as  important  as 
lud  patient  and 
I  cannot  fail  to 
nay  be  entirely 
ed   from  being. 

mudt  be  good 

J  sure  and  build 

lie  back  of  all 

ad  that  you  can 

Brookes  into 
difficulties  with 
,  "  I  cannot  see 
mpany  of  those 


WALTKU   HARLKY's   CONQTIKST. 


173 


other  fellown.     I  cannot  appear  to  be  what  I  am  not, 
nor  seem  to  think  a  great  deal  of  a  person  when  I  do 

not." 

"  I  think.  Walter,  your  difficulty  comes  from  failing  to 
understand  Ned  ;  and  perhaps  you  not  only  fail  to  under- 
stand him,  but  do  not  even  try  to  do  so.  You  dwell  on 
those  points  in  his  character  which  are  unlovely,  while 
you  entirely  overlook  the  good  qualities  he  no  doubt 
possesses.  Perhaps,  too,  his  surroundings  and  bringing 
up  may  have  been  dilfirent  from  yours— not  so  favorable 
in  many  respects.  This  you  should  take  into  account,  and 
be  more  lenient  in  your  judgment." 

Walter  looked  thoughtful.  "  He  has  not  much  of  a 
home.  His  father  drinks,  and  his  mother  is  not  one  who 
would  have  much  influence  over  him,  at  any  rate,"  he 

said. 

"Then  how  very  different  is  his  situation  compared 
with  yours.  Can  you  wonder  that  his  views  of  life  are 
not  correct,  and  his  maxims  selfish  and  worldly  ?  " 

"  I  never  thought  of  it  in  that  light  before,  uncle," 
said  Walter. 

"  If  you  try  to  understand  liim,  putting  the  best  con- 
struction on  his  words  and  actions,  you  will  soon  be 
able  to  feel  kindly  toward  him,  and  you  will  meet,  in 
time,  a  response;  and  you  are  the  more  bound  to  do 


m* 


•mmmm 


i,' 


m^tidmnfmrnt^mimi^ 


mij ^ty 


^ 


I       r    I 


'''  II  I 


I  I 


174 


WAI-TEfl    IIAni-KYS   CONQUKST. 


this  when  you  remember  that  ho  is  a  young  Christiivn 
brotlicr." 

"  I  Bco  it  18  my  duty,"  said  Walter,  "  nnd  I  will  try 
when  I  get  back."  And  then  he  sot  off  to  bid  g()()d-i)yo 
to  little  Jamie,  aa  he  was  now  speedily  to  return  to  his 
homo. 


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I 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

THE  OLD  HOMESTEAD  AND  THE  HOME-COMING. 

niHE  day  came  for  Walter  to  leave  Fairhaven.    Tlie 
J-      morning  was  bright  and  beautiful ;  and  away  out, 
as  far  as  one  could  see,  the  waves  were  dancing  and 
sparkling  in  the  sunlight. 

Walter  felt  sorry  to  say  good-bye;  and  as  the  train 
bore  him  rapidly  onward,  leaving  far  behiid  each  famil- 
iar haunt,  he  felt  that  among  his  pleasantest  recollections 
would  be  that  of  his  visit  to  Fairhaven. 

It  wa?  about  five  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  Avhen  he 
alighted  at  a  small  station  for  inland,  where  he  found  in 
waiting  Jonathan  Stubbs,  who  wurked  the  small  form 
for  the  Misses  Harley.  With  him  was  Carrie,  dancing 
with  delight  to  see  her  brother.  Soon  they  were  driving 
along  the  quiet  country  road  in  the  old-fashioned  carriage 
that  had  been  in  tlie  fomily  for  years. 

The  road  wound  along  through  pretty  scenery,  and  on 
every  side  stretched  well-kept  and  highly-cultivated  farms. 
At  length  they  readied  the  old  homestead.  Hi^,  aunts  were 
waiting  at  the  door  to  receive  him.     Mir^s  Matilda,  tall 

and  stately ;  Miss  Constance,  delicate  and  nervous.  Dear 

175 


ii 


176 


WALTER    HARLEY'S   CONQUEST. 


old  ladies,  how  warmly  they  welcomed  him  !  How  genu- 
ine their  delight  to  see  how  tall  and  fine-looking  ho  was 
growing  I 

They  ushered  him  into  the  drawing  room.  How  cool 
and  quiet  and  shady  it  was,  with  a  faint  odor  of  dried 
rose  leaves  pervading  the  air!  Yes,  it  looked  ju.st  the 
same,  with  its  handsomely  carved  mahogany  furniture. 
The  quaint  little  bookcase  stood  in  one  corner ;  the  old 
piano,  that  belonged  to  Grandmother  Harley  when  she 
was  a  girl,  in  another ;  the  little  French  clock  on  the 
mantel,  and  the  vases  and  ornaments  were  placed  as 
they  always  had  been ;  and,  looking  down  serenely  on 
all,  the  })ortraits  of  the  old  ladies'  father  and  mother, 
taken  in  their  youth. 

Life  went  on  very  quietly  and  methodically  in  this 
home,  presided  over  by  these  two  aunts.  Tliere  was 
no  rush,  no  hurry.  The  work  was  always  done,  yet 
no  one  appeared  very  busy.  It  was  a  veritable  haven  of 
rest,  where  the  noise  and  tumult  of  the  busy  outside  world 
never  came.  There  was  but  little  change  in  the  house- 
hold from  year  to  year.  Rebecca,  the  maid  servant, 
who  had  grown  old  in  their  service,  still  presided  over 
the  kitchen.  The  two  old  ladies  themselves  did  not  seem 
to  grow  older.  Active  yet  in  works  of  benevolence,  they 
might  often  be  seen  visiting  the  homes  of  the  needy  or 


1 


EST. 


WAI/fEU    HAIILKYS   CONQUEST. 


177 


111 !  How  genu- 
-looking  lie  was 

ooni.  How  cool 
ut  odor  of  dried 
;  looked  ju.-^t  the 
ogany  furniture, 
corner ;  the  old 
[arley  when  she 
cli  clock  on  the 
were  placed  as 
3wn  serenely  on 
icr  and  mother, 

lodically  in  tliis 
its.  There  was 
Iways  done,  yet 
ritable  haven  of 
isy  outside  world 
ige  in  the  house- 
e  maid  servant, 
:ill  presided  over 
ves  did  not  seeiu 
leuevoleuce,  they 
of  the  needy  or 


sorrowing,  and  on  Sunday  were  seldom  absent  from 
their  j)lace3  iu  church. 

Walter  duly  answered  all  his  aunts'  questions.  He 
was  rather  amused  when  they  asked  him  if  he  would  not 
like  to  rest  after  his  long  journey.  Little  did  he  know 
of  weariness ;  and  he  soon  proved  it  by  runniug  oft"  with 
Carrie  to  see  the  household  pets,  and  chasing  her  all 
around  the  jjarden  on  the  way. 

"  What  spirits  the  dear  boy  has !  "  said  Miss  Constance. 

"  Just  like  his  fitlier,  at  his  age,"  returned  Miss  Ma- 
tilda, her  eyes  following  him  admiringly. 

In  tlie  evening,  when  the  lamps  were  lit,  the  two  old 
ladies  wished  to  have  some  singing.  "  It  is  so  seldom 
that  the  piano  is  opened  now,"  they  said.  So  Walter 
and  Carrie  sang  together,  Walter  playing  the  accompa- 
niments on  the  piano. 

"  Now  we  must  have  a  hymn  or  two  to  finish  with," 
said  Miss  ]\Iatilda,  producing  an  old  church  hymn  book. 
And  tliey  al".  joined  in  singing. 

Miss  Matilda  and  Miss  Constance  had  been  good  sing- 
firs  in  their  day,  though  now  their  voices  were  weak  and 
quavering.  The  two  aunts  were  delighted.  To  them,  an 
evening  spent  in  this  way  was  a  pleasant  change  from 
the  knitting  and  reading,  with  which  they  generally  be- 
guiled the  hours. 


1 


178 


WAi/rEK  haulky's  conquest. 


"  Those  old  tunes  are  so  mucli  sui>erior  to  the  jingling 
tunes  they  have  now,"  said  Miss  Constance.  "  Don't  you 
think  so,  Walter  ?  " 

"  Why  no,  I  don't,  aunt,"  said  Walter,  frankly.  To 
say  the  truth,  he  thought  them  very  slow. 

"  Well,  it  is  natural  you  should  like  the  tunes  you  hear 
nowadays,  being  young.  I  suppose  I  like  these  because 
they  are  the  tunes  father  and  mother  used  to  sing  ;  and 
we  used  to  sing  them  in  the  choir." 

This  led  to  many  reminiscences  of  old  times ;  and 
Walter  wondered,  as  he  listened,  whether  some  day  he 
would  be  telling  of  the  good  old  times  when  he  was 
young. 

As  they  were  sitting  at  breakfast  next  morning,  Miss 
Matilda  f aid: 

"  You  nmst  call  on  INIrs.  McLean,  Walter.  She  was 
inquiring  when  you  were  coming,  and  would,  I  am  sure, 
be  disappointed  if  you  did  not  go  to  see  her." 
"  I  will  go  this  morning,"  he  said  in  reply. 
Mrs.  McLean  was  au  old  friend  of  the  Misses  Harley. 
She  had  been  totally  blind  for  some  years,  and  was  so 
afflicted  Avith  rheumatism  that  she  could  not  walk  ;  yet  a 
more  cheerful  Christian  it  would  be  difficult  to  find. 
Walter  could  remember,  when  he  was  a  little  boy,  how 
he  liked  to  go  with  his  aunt  to  call  on  Mrs.  McLean, 


■«»" 


KST. 

'  to  the  jingling 
•c.     "  Don't  you 

it,  frankly.    To 

I, 

e  tunes  you  hear 

:e  these  because 

icd  to  sing  ;  and 

jld  times ;  and 
3r  some  day  he 
es  when  he  was 

it  morning,  Misa 

/"alter.     She  was 
ould,  I  am  sure, 
her." 
eply. 

e  Misses  Harley. 
^ears,  and  was  so 
not  walk  ;  yet  a 
difficult  to  find. 
ft  little  boy,  how 
on  Mrs.  McLean, 


WAT/FER    HAKLKY  S   CONQUEST. 


179 


who  would  talk  so  pleasantly  to  him,  and  always  give 
him  some  nice  cake. 

He  set  ofl'  about  the  middle  of  the  morning,  and  soon 
reached  the  house,  which  was  half  a  mile  distant.  He 
was  ushered  into  the  cheerful  sitting  room,  and  there, 
oitting  in  an  easy  chair,  supported  by  pillows,  was  Mrs. 
McLean,  talking  to  a  friend.  She  turned  her  face  towaru 
the  door  with  a  bright  smile  as  Walter  was  announced. 
•  "  So  ye  have  come,  Walter,  my  boy,"'  she  said,  with  a 
slight  Scotch  accent ;  "ye  dinna  forget  an  old  friend. 
How  tall  have  ye  grown  since  ye  were  last  here  ?  Why, 
ye  are  quite  a  man,"  as  she  raised  her  hand  to  his  head. 
"I  remember  when  ye  were  but  so  high,"  letting  her 
hand  drop  to  the  arm  of  her  chair ;  "  and  is  your  hair 
dark  or  light,  and  your  eyes,  are  they  blue  ?  "  And  so 
she  tried  to  form  a  mental  jiicture  of  him ;  and  then  she 
had  many  questions  to  ask  hinj  about  home. 

Walter  asked  after  her  health. 

"  I  suffer  very  much  sometimes  with  the  rheumatism  ; 
the  last  two  nights  I  scarcely  slept  at  all,"  she  replied. 

"How  can  you  bear  it?    It  must  be  dreadful!  "  said 
Walter. 

"  I  think  of  precious  texts  and  hymns  I  have  learned, 
and  then  I  almost  forget  my  pain." 

"Well,  Mrs.  McLean,"  said  the  other  visitor,  rising, 


vjfyiiij,^^^v^^^< 


II 


180 


WALTER    HARLEY's   CONQUEST. 


"  I  must  go  now.  I  lioiH!  you  will  be  better  of  your 
rheumatism." 

"Thauk  you,  Mrs.  Lincoln;  I  trust  I  may  be,  if  it  is 
God's  will.  I  am  sorry  you  lost  so  much  by  the  fire. 
We  must  believe  that  all  such  trials  are  sent  for  some 
good  end." 

"  I  suppose  it  is  all  for  the  best,"  replied  the  lady.  "  I 
cannot  see  it,  though." 

"It  might  have  been  worse,"  said  Mrs.  McLean,  gently. 

"  Oh,  it  might  have  been  worse.  It  was  bad  enough, 
though,  as  it  was.     Well,  good-morning." 

Walter  glanced  from  one  to  the  other.  On  the  one 
hand,  a  woman  of  means,  in  the  enjoyment  of  good 
health,  fretting  over  the  loss  of  a  small  part  of  her 
possessions;  on  the  other,  the  blind,  crippled  invalid, 
shut  out  from  all  beautiful  sights  and  a  constant  sufferer, 
uttering  no  nuirmur,  throwing  no  chadow  over  othera. 
And  he  felt  the  great  difference  between  them. 

"  And  are  ye  grown  too  big,  Walter,  to  take  a  bit  of 
Jeannie's  Scotch  cake?"  said  Mrs.  McLean,  after  the 
lady  had  gone. 

"  Never  too  big  for  that,'"  replied  Walter. 

Mrs.  McLean  rang  a  bell,  and  when  the  stern-looking 
maid  appeared,  said :  "  Jeannie,  just  bring  in  some  of 
the  cake  ye  baked  yesterday."  - 


■■|l!«« 


btitter  of  your 

[imy  be,  if  it  is 

c'h  by  the  fire. 

sent  for  some 

Itheludy.    "I 

leLean,  gently. 
18  bad  enougli, 

'.  On  the  one 
•inent  of  good 
11  part  of  her 
ippled  invalid, 
nstant  sufferer, 
w  over  othera. 
hem. 

)  take  a  bit  of 
-lean,  after  the 


e  stern-looking 
ng  in  some  of 


-IP- 


WALTER  habley's  conquest. 


181 


While  Walter  was  eating  his  cake,  he  made  some 
inquiries  as  to  the  extent  of  the  loss  sustained  by  Mrs. 
Lincoln,  a  lady  whom  he  knew  to  be  quite  well  to  do, 

"  One  wing  of  their  house  was  burned  a  week  ago," 
replied  Mrs.  McLean,  "and  she  lost  some  things  she 
valued.  I  feel  very  sorry  for  her ;  for  she  has  never  had 
much  trouble,  and  she  frets  a  good  deal  about  it." 

"I  should  think  she  would  consider  her  troubles 
scarcely  worth  mentioning  in  comparison  with  what  you 
bear,"  said  Walter. 

"  Well,  dear,  we  need  the  Lord  Jesus  to  hel]i  us  bear 
the  lesser  troubles  just  as  nmch  as  the  greater.  It  does 
not  do  to  forget  that.  I  was  right  glad  to  hear  that  ye 
had  taken  him  for  your  Friend,  Walter.  He  is  a  good 
Frieud ;  dinna  be  afraid  to  trust  him.  Bring  the  little 
vexations  and  tangles  of  every-day  life  to  him,  and  he 
•will  unravel  them  and  make  them  plain  ;  and  bring  your 
joys,  too — he  will  make  them  brighter  and  sweeter. 
'He  will  make  thee  exceeding  glad  with  his  counte- 
nance.' " 

As  Walter  said  good-bye  to  the  old  lady,  he  felt  how 
real  must  be  the  Christianity  of  one  who  was  thus  joyful 
in  suffering.  He  realized,  too,  how  grateful  he  ought  to 
be  for  the  health  and  strength  he  enjoyed,  and  the  bless- 
ings he  too  often  accepted  as  a  matter  of  course. 


-;ws»?5rai-- 


~Tp^/S'?KS';^?!W'#Wt'T'?«5SW5S't3-.'K#r;^"'. 


I       ! 


AJ 


182 


WALTEn   nAni.EY'B   COXQITi'.-T. 


Walter  could  only  spend  one  day  with  Iuh  uuiits.  Tho 
next  louiul  liiiu  and  Currio  on  their  homeward  way. 

It  was  pleasant  to  be  home  again — j)lca.xant  to  hear 
mother's  gentle  voice,  as  she  welcomed  them  in  ;  jjlcawant 
to  see  father's  bright  face,  as  he  said  :  "  Well,  it  i.s  good 
to  have  the  children  home  again."  liertlia  diuiccd  about 
for  joy,  and  even  Winnie  joined  in  the  glee  and  lauglicd 
merrily. 

Cousin  Flora  looked  much  better  and  hapi)icr,  Walter 
thought,  and  was  as  pleased  aa  any  one  to  welcome  them 
back  again.  She  was  indeed  better,  and  able  to  help  IMrs. 
Harley  in  many  ways  ;  for  the  summer  was  a  busy  time 
at  Elmwood.  Every  morning  Flora  watered  the  house 
plants,  and  arranged  fresh  flowers  in  the  rooms ;  often, 
too,  making  up  a  bouquet,  or  filling  a  basket  with  fruit 
for  some  friend,  to  whom  Mrs.  Harley  thought  it  would 
be  acceptable.  Flora  was  to  leave  in  a  week  or  two,  but 
Walter  no  longer  found  her  stay  wearisome. 

They  were  out,  one  pleasant  afternoon,  in  the  phaeton, 
driving  along  a  shady  road.  Walter  had  grown  quite 
used  to  the  slow  pace ;  and  "  Fan,"  the  horse,  seemed  to 
prefer  it  on  these  hot  August  days. 

"  It  is  too  bad  you  have  to  t'  've  so  slowly,  Walter," 
said  Flora.  "  I  shall  soon  be  gone,  and  then  you  will 
have  a  fine  time." 


■;-T. 

liiH  aunts.  Tho 
iWiird  way. 
Icusaiit  to  lioar 
(in  in  ;  i)l('a«ant 
Well,  it  i.s  >,'oo(l 
111  diuieed  ahout 
lee  and  laughed 

liap])icr,  Walter 
)  wcli'onie  them 
blc  U)  help  Mrs. 
ms  a  busy  time 
tered  the  house 
le  rooms ;  often, 
askct  with  fruit 
hought  it  would 
ivcck  or  two,  but 
me. 

,  in  the  phaeton, 
lad  grown  quite 
horse,  seemed  to 

slowly,  Walter," 
id  then  you  will 


WAT.TETl   HAULKY's  CONQUEST. 


183 


"Oh,  I  don't  mind,"  said  Walter;  "and  I  dare  say 
'  Fan  '  prefers  it." 

"Perhaps  so,"  said  Flora.  "'It  is  nn  ill  wind  that 
blows  nobody  good.'  Do  you  know,  Walter,  I  ean  never 
bo  thankful  enough  fov  coming  here  this  summer?  I  am 
a  great  deal  better  in  health  ;  but  that  is  not  all— I  have 
found  Jesus,  and  life  is  m  changed.  It  is  so  much  easier 
to  bear  any  suflering  I  h""e— and  I  do  really  feel  very 
miserably  sometimes.  But  now  I  have  One  to  whom  I 
can  tell  all  my  troubles,  and  he  always  helps  me." 

"  I  am  so  glad,"  said  Walter.  "  I  thought  you  looked 
much  happier." 

"  Indeed  I  am.  I  was  so  miserable,  so  unhai)i)y  whc:i 
I  came.  I  wanted  to  come  here  rather  than  go  anywhere 
else,  because  I  knew  your  father  and  mother  were  t'liris- 
tians,  and  I  thought  perhaps  I  might  get  some  good  ;  and 
every  day  I  longed  more  and  more  to  have  the  peace  an<l 
real  joy  that  I  saw  you  all  possessed.  Tlicn  I  had  some 
talks  with  your  dear  mother,  and  she  made  it  all  so  plain 
to  me ;  so  I  came  to  Jesus  as  I  was,  and  I  believe  he  baa 
received  me."  Her  face  shone  with  a  calm,  quiet  content 
as  she  said  this.  Then  she  added :  "  I  want  to  thank  you 
for  all  your  kindness,  Walter.  Looking  back,  I  think  1 
have  often  been  exacting  and  fanciful,  thinking  only  of 
myself;  and  I  am  sure  it  must  have  been  hard  for  you, 


■nNffiHPi!'* 


184 


WAT-TER    HARLEY's   CONQITKST. 


■o  active  ami  full  of  life,  to  put  up  with  till  my  notioiia. 
I  felt  sure  you  did  it  bcoiiuso  you  were  a  Chriwtittu  boy, 
and  it  nmdo  nie  long  to  bo  a  Cliristian  too." 

"It  doca  not  scorn  ns  though  I  did  aiiytliiiig,"  said 
Walter ;  "  not  more  than  I  ought  to  do,  anyway." 

"I  am  going  to  tight  solfi.ihnoss,"  continued  Flora, 
earnestly.  "It  will  be  a  liard  fight  for  me,  but  1  know 
Christ  will  help  me ;  and  the  future  looks  bright  to  nio 
now." 

Walter  did  not  say  much,  for,  boy  like,  he  did  not 
know  what  to  say ;  but  his  heart  was  full  of  lmi)piiieHs  at 
the  thought  that  in  any  way  ho  had  helped  another  toward 
a  Christian  life. 


li*jmt»mmmm 


„;-w#S"*?,«V' 


"W*" 


■>»■■  f 


M«»WiMMM|MM»«PH*M 


rKST. 

I  all  my  notions. 

II  Christian  boy, 
o." 

iiiiytliinji;,"  said 
uiyway." 
)iitiiiue(l  Flora, 
nic,  hut  1  know 
ia  bright  to  mo 

ike,  ho  did  not 

of  luii)|»ineHs  at 

I  another  toward 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 


NEW  INFLUENCES. 


THE  hot  August  days  passed  away,  and  now  camo 
tranquil,  dreamy  Scjrtcmber.  The  weather  during 
the  first  week  proved  so  delightful  that  some  of  the  young 
.people  came  to  the  conclusion  that  they  must  have  a 
picnic.  The  Harringtons  were  the  chief  movers  in  the 
matter;  Walter  also  worked  hard  to  get  it  up,  and  the 
anticipations  of  all  were  raised  to  a  very  high  pitch  re- 
garding the  pleasures  they  would  enjoy.  These  anti(!i- 
pations  wore  in  a  large  measure  realized;  but  mingled 
also  with  the  experiences  of  the  day  was  that  which 
brought  something  quite  new  and  ultimately  very  help- 
ful to  Walter. 

The  day  of  the  picnic  was  sultry,  and  in  the  afternoon 
clouds  gathered.  The  young  people  all  enjoyed  them- 
selves very  much,  and  scarcely  noticed  the  gathering 
clouds,  till,  while  they  were  making  merry  over  the 
bountiful  repast  spread  by  the  girls,  a  distant  rumble  of 
thunder  warned  them  of  an  approaching  storm.  They 
hastily  packed  the  baskets,  and  started  for  the  boats  and 

canoes.    They  reached  a  place  of  shelter  just  as  the  first 

186 


i^ 


im 


WALTER   HARLEY  S   CONQUEST. 


drops  were  falling,  so  the  girls  escaped  a  wetting;  but 
those  of  the  boys  who  had  to  secure  the  canoes,  etc.,  were 
thoroughly  drenched,  Walter  among  the  number.  It  was 
8onie  time  before  they  could  start  ou  their  homeward 
way,  and  he  reached  home  completely  worn  out. 

In  the  morning  he  felt  stiff,  and  ached  a  good  deal, 
but  had  a  merry  story  to  tell  of  their  adventures.  As 
the  days  passed  on,  however,  he  did  not  by  any  means 
enjoy  his  usual  good  health. 

One  afternoon  he  came  home  from  school  feeling  par- 
ticularly wretched :  his  back  ached  and  his  head  ached. 
He  was  quite  disgusted  to  think  he  should  only  feel  fit 
to  lie  on  the  sofa.  He  pulled  out  his  books,  and  resolved 
to  study  his  lessons,  so  that  he  could  go  to  bed  early ; 
but  it  was  no  use.  When  the  tea  bell  rang  he  hardly 
felt  strong  enough  to  go  down;  but,  as  his  father  and 
mother  were  away  spending  the  day  with  friends,  he 
thought  he  must  take  the  head  of  the  table. 

"What  is  the  matter,  Walter?"  said  Carrie ;  ''you  don't 
seem  a  bit  like  yourself" 

"  I  have  such  a  headache.  I  shall  go  to  bed  as  soon  aa 
tea  is  over,"  he    "plied. 

It  seemed  lonely  without  mother.  He  began  to  grow 
impatient  for  her  return.  He  went  up  stairs  and  lay  down, 
but  did  not  feel  any  better.     His  head  grew  very  hot, 


V 


lUEST. 

(1  a  wetting;  but 
canoes,  etc.,  were 

!  number.  It  was 
their   homeward 

vorn  out. 

:;hed  a  good  deal, 
adventures.     As 

lot  by  any  means 

ihool  feeling  par- 
1  his  head  ached, 
lould  only  feel  fit 
oks,  and  resolved 
JO  to  bed  early; 
rang  he  hardly 
IS  his  father  and 
with  friends,  he 
ble. 
arrie;  ''you don't 

to  bed  as  soon  aa 

3  began  to  grow 

irs  and  lay  down, 

grew  very  hot. 


WAI.TEn   HART.Ers   CONQUEST. 


187 


and  he  tossed  about  restlessly,  and  his  desire  for  his 
motlier  increased  as  his  fever  heightened.  How  eagerly 
we  turn  to  mother  when  ailments  or  troubles  come !  And 
for  her  touch  at  such  times  the  passing  of  the  years 
scarce  diminishes  our  longing. 

When  Mrs.  Ilarley  came  home,  she  went  to  Walter's 
room  to  see  if  he  was  up.  She  found  him  in  a  high  fever, 
tossing  from  side  to  side,  and  nmttering  incolierently. 
He  roused  a  little  when  his  mother  spoke  to  him.  He 
remembered  afterward  that,  in  reply  to  her  anxious 
inquiries,  he  had  tried  to  tell  her  how  ill  he  felt,  but  was 
not  sure  that  he  said  exactly  what  he  meant.  Then  he 
remembered  seeing  the  family  doctor,  and  he  knew  he 
must  be  very  ill.  He  had  an  indistinct  idea  that  his 
father  was  in  the  room  all  night ;  that  his  mother  was  in 
and  out,  and  that  he  took  medicine ;  and  then  he  saw 
the  doctor's  grave  face  again,  as  he  bent  over  him  and 
felt  his  pulse;  and  all  was  mixed  up  with  strange 
dreams.    . 

By-and-by  tlie  fever  left  him ;  and  then  how  weak  he 
felt,  so  unlike  the  Walter  of  two  weeks  before.  He  had 
scarcely  ever  known  what  it  was  to  be  ill,  and  it  was  u 
trying  experience  for  him.  He  began  to  feel  a  real 
sympathy  for  Cousin  Flora,  and  thought  how  dreadful  it 
must  be  to  feel  80  wretchedly  all  the  time.    . 


.afeUb^^iife^iftptft 


188  WALTEB   HAELEY's  OOXQTTE8T, 

He  did  not  feel  much  better  when  he  was  able  to  get 
down  stairs.    He  was  so  languid  and  listless — easily  irri- 
tated, and  worried  if  the  little  ones  made  a  noise,  or  were 
fretful ;  and  he  often  dolefully  wondered  if  he  ever  would 
be  strong  again.    It  was  quite  humiliatmg  to  him  to  find 
out  how  much  of  his  good  temper  and  sunny  disposition 
had  been  the  result  of  perfect  health.     Perhaps  it  was  a 
lesson  he  needed  to  learn,  especially  at  this  time ;  for 
when  he  was  away  he  was  such  a  favorite  that  he  re- 
turned home  with  quite  a  good  opinion  of  himself.    So, 
in  thinking  of  himself,  he  had  gotten  away  from  his 
Saviour.     Now,  in  his  weakness,  he  turned  eagerly  to  the 
Rock  of  hia  strength.    He  was  very  grateful  too,  that  in 
him  he  found  refuge,  and  that  in  clinging  to  his  promises 
there  was  no  lack  of  rest.    The  Lord  had  indeed  been 

to  him  a  very  present  help. 
"  Was  I  dangerously  ill,  mother?"  he  asked,  one  day 

when  he  was  strong  enough  to  talk. 

"  Yes ;  the  doctor  thought  you  seriously  ill  that  night, 

and  for  a  day  or  two  we  felt  great  anxiety.    It  would 

have  been  so  hard  to  give  you  up,  darling;  but  God 

spared  us  that  trial." 

"  Do  you  know,  mother,"  said  Walter,  after  a  pause, 

"  I  was  so  glad  when  I  was  so  ill  to  know  that  it  was  all 

right  with    me  whatever    happened.    I    thought  how 


fQTTEST, 

a  he  was  able  to  get 
listless — easily  irri- 
ade  a  noise,  or  were 
■ed  if  he  ever  would 
atmg  to  him  to  find 
d  sunny  disposition 
Perhaps  it  was  a 
r  at  this  time ;  for 
avorite  that  he  re- 
on  of  himself.    So, 
en  away  from  his 
rned  eagerly  to  the 
rateful  too,  that  in 
■ing  to  his  promises 
had  indeed  been 

he  nfiked,  one  day 

•usly  ill  that  night, 
mxiety.  It  would 
darling;  but  God 

ter,  after  a  pause, 

low  that  it  was  all 

I    thought  how 


't^ 


WALTER    HAniiEY's   CONQUEST. 


189 


dreadful  it  would  be  if  I  had  never  thought  of  religion 
before,  and  had  to  seek  Christ  then,  when  I  was  so 
wretched  and  distracted  that  I  could  scarcely  put  two 
ideas  together." 

"  Yes,  indeed,  dear,"  replied  his  mother,  "  if,  when  in 
health,  you  trust  and  love  Jesus,  your  motto  will  be, 
•Ready,  aye  ready  ' — ready  to  live  for  him,  ready  to  die, 
if  that  should  be  his  will.  And  the  way  to  be  ready  to 
die  is  to  live  for  him.  He  who  has  given  us  grace  for 
the  one  will  not  fail  us  when  the  other  comes.  His  rod 
ar.d  his  staff  will  comfort  then,  as  tl.ey  help  now." 

Now  that  Walter  was  beginning  to  feel  better,  he 
wished  for  something  to  occupy  his  time;  so  he  was 
very  pleased  to  receive  a  kind  letter  from  Flora,  with 
a  number  of  Christmas  and  New  Year's  cards  which 
she  had  collected,  and  now  sent  to  him  that  he  might 
fill  a  scrap  album  for  sick  Jamie ;  and  Walter  found 
it  quite  an  amusement  to  arrange  them,  and  paste 
them  in. 

The  days  seemed  to  Walter  to  pass  very  slowly ;  but 
gome  of  the  boys  came  up  nearly  every  day  to  see  him, 
and  this  made  a  pleasant  diversion.  There  was  one, 
however,  who  never  came  even  so  much  as  to  inquire 
after  him,  and  that  was  Ned  Brookes.  What  was  the 
reason?    Ned  was  friendly  enough  after  the  holidays; 


190 


WAI.TKR    HAULEy's   CX)N'QUEST. 


indeed,  rather  pleasanter  than  usual.  Walter  felt  liurt 
by  it ;  then  he  remembered  that  Ned  was  somewhat  diffi- 
dent, and  perhaps  had  inquired  of  tlie  other  boys.  But 
when  he  went  back  to  school,  and  Ned  greeted  him  as 
indifferently  as  though  he  had  never  been  absent, 
Walter  felt  the  slight,  or  what  ho  deemed  the  slight, 
keenly.  "  How  can  I  care  for  him,  when  he  cares  so 
little  for  me  ?  "  he  thought.  "  At  any  rate,  I  can  make 
no  advances."     So  the  gulf  between  them  widened. 

About  this  time  Walter  formed  a  new  acquaintance. 
Lawrence  Orine,  a  nephew  of  Judge  Harrington's,  had 
lately  come  to  Knowlton  to  study  law.  He  was,  of 
course,  frequently  at  his  uncle's,  and  was  soon  introduced 
to  Walter. 

Lawrence  Orrae  was  an  agreeable  young  man,  of 
polished  manners,  easy  in  conversation,  and  withal  very 
intelligent.  He  read  largely ;  and  was  a  keen  observer 
of  men  and  things.  He  kept  himself  well  informed  on 
all  the  topics  of  the  day ;  and,  as  he  had  plenty  of  lively 
wit,  his  conversation  was  at  once  interesting  and  amusing. 
Lawrence  was  undoubtedly  clever  ;  and  many  predicted 
that  he  would  make  his  mark  in  the  world. 

Walter  admired  him.  Lawrence  soon  perceived  that, 
and  it  pleased  him  ;  so  the  two  became  friends.  Walter 
liked  companionii  older  than  himself,  and  was  always 


QUEST. 

Walter  felt  hurt 
was  somewhat  diffi- 
e  other  boys.  But 
ed  greeted  him  as 
ever  been  absent, 
deemed  the  slight, 
when  he  cares  so 
y  rate,  I  can  make 
em  widened, 
new  acquaintance. 
Harrington's,  had 
law.  He  was,  of 
as  soon  introduced 

!  young  man,  of 
n,  and  withal  very 
18  a  keen  observer 
'  well  informed  on 
id  plenty  of  lively 
iting  and  amusing, 
d  many  predicted 
irld. 

on  perceived  that, 
!  friends.  Walter 
,  and  was  always 


WALTER    UARLEYis   CONQUE-ST. 


191 


very  much  influenced  by  them.  Lawrence  liked  to  gain 
power  over  others — to  influence  them  to  think  and  act  as 
he  did.  It  was  no  wonder,  then,  that  he  soon  began  to 
have  an  influence  over  Walter.  Was  his  influence  for 
good?  Often  Mrs.  Harley  questioned  this  within  her 
mind.    Once  she  mentioned  her  doubts  to  her  husband. 

"  Why,  Alice,"  he  replied,  "  I  feel  very  much  pleased 
at  the  friendship  between  them.  There  can  be  nothing 
against  Lawrence ;  he  is  moral  and  high-minded,  and 
then  he  is  intelligent  and  refined.  He  is  just  the  one  for 
Walter,  now  he  is  growing  into  manhood." 

Mrs.  Harley  sighed.  "  There  is  something  about  him," 
she  said,  "that  leads  me  to  distrust  him.  I  cannot  help 
feeling  that  there  is  that  connected  with  him  which  he 
would  not  have  us  know.  I  fear  he  will  not  help 
Walter's  Christian  life." 

"  Oh,  as  to  that,"  returned  Mr.  Harley,  "  he  may  not 
be  a  decided  Christian.  I  do  not  know  that  wo  can 
judge  about  that,  either.  I  think  he  has  Christian  senti- 
ments ;  and  I  am  sure  he  would  not  hinder,  if  he  does  not 
help.  Have  you  ever  heard  him  give  expression  to  any 
views  to  which  you  would  take  exception  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Mrs.  Harley,  hesitatingly,  "  I  cannot  say 
that  I  have ;  but  there  is  something  about  him  which  I 
cannot  define  that  I  do  not  like." 


"-W 


rMM^}fM&MM^d:UK.i!i-^Mi'smii' 


192 


WALTKR    HARI.EYS   CONQUEST. 


"  You  are  over  anxious,  Alice  ;  if  Walter  always  has  as 
good  associates,  I  sliall  be  perfectly  satisfied. " 

Mrs.  Harley  said  nothing  more  ;  but  she  wa-s  not  satis- 
fied. With  her  woman's  quick  instinct,  she  felt  rather 
than  knew  that  Lawrence  Orme's  influence  would  be 
directly  opposed  to  true  Christian  living ;  and  she  was 
right.  Lawrence  was  very  careful  and  guarded  in  his 
remarks  before  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Harley,  but  in  the  presence 
of  his  young  friends  he  often  put  forth  very  unorthodox 
ideas.  It  was  true  he  was  moral,  and  would  be  counted 
religious  by  some,  since  he  always  attended  church  once 
on  Sunday  ;  but  though  he  observed  outward  forms,  he 
had  never  submitted  his  heart  to  God,  and  j)referred  to 
guide  his  life  by  his  own  maxims  rather  than  by  those 
laid  down  in  Scripture. 

Walter  had  learned  that  "  all  Scripture  is  given  by 
inspiration  "  ;  but  Lawrence  very  coolly  set  aside  what- 
ever did  not  suit  his  own  ideas.  His  idea  of  life  was 
to  have  as  good  a  time  as  possible  ;  and  consequently  he 
ridiculed  the  idea  of  denying  one's  self  for  others  good. 
As  might  be  expected,  he  had  little  sympathy  with  the 
great  moral  reforms  of  the  day.  For  himself  he  could  keep 
clear  of  gross  evils,  and  if  others  were  too  weak  to  do  so, 
BO  much  the  worse  for  them ;  he  did  not  see  why  people 
should  make  such  a  fuss  about  it.    In  fact,  to  live  an 


•UEST. 


'c 


WALTER    HARLEY'S   CVDXQUEST. 


193 


liter  always  has  as 
sfied." 

slie  wa-s  not  satis- 
;t,  she  felt  rather 
fluence  would  be 
ng ;  and  she  was 
d  guarded  in  his 
ut  in  the  presence 
1  very  unorthodox 
would  be  counted 
nded  church  once 
outward  forms,  he 
,  and  j)referred  to 
her  than  by  those 

ipture  is  given  by 
lly  set  aside  what- 
3  idea  of  life  was 
i  consequently  he 
f  for  others  good, 
ympathy  with  the 
iself. he  could  keep 
too  weak  to  do  so, 
ot  see  why  people 
[n  fact,  to  live  an 


ea  nest,  Christian  life  was  in  Lawrence's  eyes  to  be  a 
fanatic,  while  the  sensible  people,  in  his  estimation,  w^-.t 
those  whose  religion  did  not  hinder  them  from  living  a 
thoroughly  worldly  life.  In  spite  of  the  views  he  enter- 
tained, Lawrence  could  aduiire  a  good  sermon,  would 
speak  enthusiastically  of  some  passages  of  Scripture;  but 
when  it  came  to  "  whatsoever  he  saith  unto  you,  do  it," 
his  proud  spirit  would  not  bow  in  submission. 

Walter  was  not  long  in  finding  out  Lawrence's 
opinions.  He  of  course  did  not  agree  with  them,  and 
often  told  him  so.  Yet  he  found  himself  more  and  more, 
as  the  days  went  by,  thinking  with  regard  to  every 
action,  "What  would  Lawrence  think  of  this,  and  wliat 
would  Lawrence  say  about  th^  other  ?  "  Indeed,  Law- 
rence's influence  over  him  might  be  seen  in  many  ways. 

After   Walter's   return   from   Fairhaven   he   had,  at 

Lina's  request,  attended  a  mission  service,  held  at  four 

o'clock  on  Sunday  afternoon,  in  a  poor  part  of  the  town. 

He  went  to  take  the  place  of  the  organist,  Miss  Dawson, 

who  was  away  on  her  vacation.     He  became  interested 

in  the  work  there,  but  after  his  illness  he  did  not  feel 

strong  enough  to  go.     Then  he  became  acquainted  with 

Lawrence,  and  from  that  time  began  to  lose  interest  in 

the   mission  and  its  work.     Once,  not  very  long  after 

their  acquaintance,  Walter  was  spending  the  evening  at 

N 


194 


WALTER   HARLEY'8  CONQUEST. 


the  Harrington's.  Lawrence  waa  there,  and  also  Louise 
Anncsly,  a  gay,  lively  girl  of  sixteen,  who  was  visiting 
the  family.  In  the  course  of  conversation,  Lawrence 
said: 

"  For  my  part,  I  do  not  care  for  those  young  men  who 
spend  their  time  teaching  poor  children  in  mission 
schools,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing.  They  may  be  well 
enough  in  their  way,  but  I  do  not  care  to  have  anything 
to  do  with  them.  They  are  not  after  my  style,  I  assure 
you.  They  may  be  sincere,  but  I  cannot  understand 
them ;  it  seems  to  me  it  is  not  natural  for  any  one  to  do 
as  they  do." 

Walter  would  have  expressed  a  contrary  opinion  if 
any  one  other  than  Lawrence  had  uttered  such  words. 
As  it  was,  he  kept  silent,  and  felt  secretly  glad  that  he 
was  not  going  now  to  the  Stoneway  Mission.  It  was  not 
a  very  manly  thing  for  him  to  do,  and  was  little  like  the 
Walter  of  a  short  time  before.  It  showed  how  well 
founded  were  his  mother's  fears. 

"  I  think  that  kind  of  young  men  just  splendid,"  said 
Mary,  her  bright  eyes  flashing.  "  Is  it  not  better  to  use 
one's  time  and  talents  to  help  others  upward,  than  to  live 
only  for  self  ?  For  my  part,  I  think  so,  and  I  admire 
any  one  who  does  it.'  As  she  looked  then,  her  admira- 
tion was  something  any  one  would  value;  and  Walter 


f<f 


UEST. 

>,  and  also  Loiiige 
who  was  visiting 
sation,  Lawrence 

e  young  men  who 
Idren  in  mission 
hey  may  be  well 
to  have  anything 
my  style,  I  assure 
mnot  understand 
for  any  one  to  do 

ntrary  opinion  if 
;tered  such  words, 
•etly  glad  that  he 
3sion.  It  was  not 
was  little  like  the 
showed  how  well 

ist  splendid,"  said 
b  not  better  to  use 
)ward,  than  to  live 
so,  and  I  admire 
then,  her  admira- 
alue;  and  Walter 


WALTER   IIABI.EV'S  CONQUEST.  195 

was  not  insensible  to  the  influence  her  brave  stand 
exerted. 

"I  think  they  could  not  help  very  much  the  little 
urchins  I  see  coming  out  of  some  of  the  schools,"  replied 
Lawrence.  "  Time  and  tulpjits  are  thrown  away  on  tliem, 
in  my  opinion.  Give  me  the  jolly  fellow  that  enjoys  lifp, 
and  is  always  ready,  of  course,  to  give  a  helping  himd  to 
another  when  in  need ;  he  is  worth  a  dozen  of  your 
'goody  goody'  young  men,  who  would  rather  go  to 
prayer  meeting  than  to  the  theatre,  and  spend  their  time 
after  business  looking  up  poor  young  ones  in  dirty  tene- 
ments to  go  to  Sunday-school." 

"  That  is  exactly  what  I  think,  Mr.  Orme,"  exclaimed 
Louise  Annesly ;  and  a  little  laugh  followed,  indicating 
how  extremely  funny  she  thought  it  that  there  should  be 
such  young  men,  or  that  she  should  have  anything  to  do 
with  them  if  there  were. 

"  The  young  men  whom  I  know  engaged  in  such  works 
are  very  far  from  being  '  goody  goody,' "  said  Mary. 
"  They  are  always  ready  for  any  sensible  amusement.  I 
think  it  is  grand  to  see  a  young  man  an  out-and-out, 
earnest  Christian."  Mary's  cheeks  flushed  as  she  spoke, 
and  there  was  a  slight  tremor  in  her  voice. 

Walter  knew  it  had  cost  her  some  efibrt  to  say  what 
she  did.     It  seemed  to  him  that  her  action  was  as  brave 


ifr 


-fm' 


-ni*-:  te^-^^^^^Jg?**/ 


■.*'^:is:^i?-^/r. 


196 


WAI/rKR    IIAni.EY  8  CONQUK8T. 


ns  his  WM  oownrdly,  that  alio  should  Hi)oiik  while  he  re- 
niiiined  niient.  But  sonieliow  he  felt  tlmt  he  couhl  not 
BjH'ivit,  much  jiH  hiH  conscience  smote  him.  Lawrence 
Biiid  notiiinjr.  There  was  Homotliinj,'  in  Mury'a  carncflt 
words  that  silenced  his  flippant  remarks.  - « 

"  Come,  Miss  Louise,"  he  said,  anxious  to  turn  the 
Buhjcct,  "  we  were  to  have  some  nmsic,  were  we  not?  I 
believe  you  promised  to  sinj^  for  me." 

Miss  Louise  could  not  rememher  any  such  promise, 
and  required  considerable  persuasion  before  she  would 
allow  herself  to  be  le<l  to  the  piano. 

Walter  stood  a  little  aside,  silent  and  grave  for  him. 
He  felt  that  he  had  not  been  true  to  his  colors.  Ho 
had  let  slip  an  opjxirtunity  for  avowing  his  Master,  and 
he  felt  ashamed  of  his  cowardly  silence.  He  admired 
Mary  for  the  stand  she  had  taken.  It  was  quite  a  sur- 
prise to  him  ;  for  all  the  influences  surrounding  her  were 
worldly  in  tendency,  and  he  had  never  heard  her  speak 
out  so  decidedly  before. 

One  Saturday  afternoon,  shortly  after  this,  Walter  was 
walking  into  town,  when  he  chanced  to  foil  in  with 
Benuie  Harris.  Ever  since  he  had  become  acquainted 
with  Lawrence  Orme,  Walter  had  been  rather  more 
distant  toward  Bennie.  He  began  to  think  that  Bennie, 
although  a  good  enough  boy,  was  not  stylish  and  genteel 


UKST. 


WAI.TKU    IIAIILKV8   COXQUl-WT. 


197 


poiik  wliilo  lie  re- 

tliat  lie  could  not 

him,     Lawrence 

n  Mury'a  carnoflt 

M)\i6  to  turn   tlie 
,  were  we  not  ?    I 

my  such  promiHe, 
before  she  would 

lid  grave  for  him. 
.)  his  colors.  He 
g  his  Master,  and 
ice.  He  admired 
[t  was  quite  a  sur- 
rounding her  were 
heard  her  speak 

ir  this,  Walter  was 
i  to  fall  in  with 
become  acquainted 
been  rather  more 
think  that  Bennie, 
stylish  and  genteel 


enouirh  for  a  companion.  On  thin  particular  afternoon, 
Bennie  had  ou  an  old  suit  of  clothes,  and  Walter  found 
himself  hoping  that  they  would  not  meet  anybody  ho 
knew.  'But,  as  fate  would  have  it,  just  as  they  entered 
the  town,  Lawrence  Orme  came  round  u  corner,  and  with 
him  a  very  stylisii-looking  young  man.  Walter  wished 
Bennio  in  Jericho,  as  he  noticed  Lawrence,  with  a  quick 
glance,  take  in  his  companion's  outfit.  After  they  had 
passed  on,  Walter  grew  suddenly  abstracted,  and  Bennie 
had  to  do  the  talking.  They  had  reached  the  princijial 
street  when  Walter  saw  in  the  distance  Louise  Annesly, 
with  two  or  three  other  young  ladies.  He  could  not 
meet  them ;  so,  as  he  passed  a  stationery  store,  he 
said: 

"  I  believe  I  must  go  in  here  and  get  some  pens." 
And  bidding  Bonnie  good-bye  rather  abruptly,  he  en- 
tered the  store,  with  a  sense  of  relief  not  umixcd  with 
shame.  For  a  few  moments  he  did  not  notice  the  small 
boy  who  was  waiting  to  serve  him,  and  when  he  did, 
could  not  at  first  remember  what  he  had  intended  to  buy. 
"Oh,  yes;  pens,"  he  said;  and  he  began  to  look  over, 
and  select  them  very  carefully. 

Just  then  Lina  appeared.  She  had  been  at  the  farther 
end  of  the  store,  looking  over  some  music.  Walter's 
first  thought  was  "  Would  Lina  be  aahamed  of  any  of 


■  wi" 


;,*.»>««■•«;  :«s-i:'J.'i>>- 


•TSrSTT 


'fmMif'm'iif^i^^ 


198  WAI-TKB    HAUI-KYH  OON^UBST. 

her  friends  beciuiHO  they  Jmppened  to  be  poorly  dressed?" 
He  felt  Mirc  she  would  not.  "  IJnt  then  Linii  in  »o  k"»"<1." 
he  Huid  to  hl.iwelf  "She  does  not  feel  like  other  folks." 
Liini  oiunc  up  witli  a  plciwiint,  cheery  word,  iind'Walter 
was  (,'liid  to  Hec  licr.  It  en'eiauully  turned  his  thoughts 
into  other  ehiinnelH. 

"  I  uni  HO  glad  I  mot  you,  Walter,"  exclaimed  Lina,  na 
they  went  out  of  the  store  together.  "  T  see  you  so 
Bcldom  of  late.  \\v.  are  going  to  have  a  social  next 
Wednesday  evening  for  the  peoi)le  of  Stoneway  Mission, 
and  we  shall  have  music,  and  readings,  and  refresh- 
uienta ;  and  I  have  been  wanting  so  to  see  you  to  lusk 
you  to  sing  something  for  us." 

Walter  was  in  a  penitent  mood  just  then,  and  anxious 
to  do  something  to  satisfy  his  conscience;  so  be  quite 
readily  consented.  He  was  by  no  means  pleased  with 
his  conduct  of  late.  He  would  like  to  be  at  peace  with 
himself  if  the  cost  were  not  too  great. 

"  A\e  want  to  gain  a  hold  on  our  young  people  in  the 
mission,'  said  Lina ;  " and  we  thought  it  would  be  pleas- 
ant to  have  a  social  evening  for  them.  We  .hope  to  get 
more  of  them  to  attend  our  mission  school.  You  will  do 
what  yon  can  to  help  us,  will  you  not?  You  are  just  the 
one  ;  you  are  so  easy  and  sociable." 
"  I  cannot  promise.    In  fact,  I  do  not  think  I  have 


UBST. 

poorly  drcBsed?" 
liiiui  is  81)  ),"""'>" 
Ukv.  olluT  folks." 
tvord,  and*  Walter 
uud  hid  thuugiitd 

schiiuicd  Lina,  as 
"  T  SCO  you  80 
ivo  a  social  next 
^toneway  Miss^iou, 
n;,'8,  and  refresh- 
to  see  you  to  ask 

then,  and  anxious 
snce;  so  he  quite 
jans  pleased  with 
)  be  at  peace  with 

mg  people  in  the 
it  would  be  pleas- 

We  .hope  to  get 
lool.     You  will  do 

You  are  just  the 

not  think  I  have 


WAI-TKU    lIAIUiEY'ri   CONQUKST. 


1!»1) 


any  talent  in  that  line,"  returned  Walter,  wlio  wiw  afraid 
of  comniittlng  liiinHclf  too  fully  to  thin  nuMsion  work. 

"  When  are  you  goinu  to  help  us  sing  agiiiii  at  our 
Sunday  ailernoon  service  ?  " 

"  IVriiapft  sonic  time,"  reiiliod  Walter.  "  I  do  not  feel 
Btrong  enough  yet.  You  cannot  imagine  how  tired  I  am 
after  Sunday-school !  " 

This  was  quite  true ;  for  Walter  WU8  not  as  strong  08 
he  had  heon  bifore  his  illness.  Yet  his  disinclination  to 
go  was  so  great  that  he  could  not  help  feeling  glud  that 
ho  had  so  good  an  excuse  for  staying  away. 

"  What  is  the  good  of  this  mission  work,  anyway?"  he 
•  continued.  "These  people  are  surrounded  by  so  many 
bad  influences  that  you  cannot  expect  them  to  be  much 
benefited  by  the  little  time  you  and  others  can  devote  to 
them.  It  nmst  be  almost  impossible  for  them  to  be 
Christians  who»e  everything  is  against  them.  It  would 
almost  seem  that  one  had  better  spend  Lis  time  and 
work  where  there  is  more  promise  of  results.  AVork 
among  such  people  must  be  discouraging,  to  say  the 
least." 

"  Why,  Walter,"  said  Lina,  quite  surprised,  "  you  are 
forgetting  the  divine  side  of  the  question.  '  What  is  im- 
possible with  man  is  possible  with  God.'  It  is  only  his 
grace  that  enables  any  one  to  live  a  Christian  life,  how- 


200 


WALTER    HARLEY's   CONQUEST. 


ever  favoraI)ly  situated ;  and  that  grace  is  sufficient  in 
all  circumstances.  For  my  part,  in  spite  of  all  the  diffi- 
culties we  meet  with  in  our  work,  I  have  not  felt  »o  dis- 
couraged as  in  trying  to  work  among  the  pleasure-seeking, 
gay  butterflies  of  richer  circles." 

Lina  looked  rather  sadly  after  Walter,  as  they  parted 
at  her  door.  Ilis  indiffp'-once  pained  her;  and  without 
hesitation  .sho  connected  that  indifference  with  one  per- 
son, and  that  person  was  Lawrence  Orme. 

Two  or  three  days  after  this,  Walter  met  Lawrence. 

"  By  the  way,"  said  Lawrence,  in  the  course  of  their 
conversation,  "  who  was  that  countrified-looking  chap 
with  you  when  I  met  you  on  Saturday  ?  " 

"  Oh,  one  of  the  boys,"  returned  Walter,  careles.  '7. 
"And  who  was  your  chum  ?  " 

"  Oh,  a  fellow  that  has  some  style  about  him — Mr. 
St.  Clair.  He  is  a  lucky  one ;  as  he  is  a  gentleman  of 
leisure.  He  is  here  on  a  pleasure  trip,  and  is  stopping 
at  the  Staunton  House.  I  am  going  to  see  him  now.  I 
shall  not  be  long.  Come  with  me.  He  is  a  very  nice 
fellow,  and  I  should  like  you  to  meet  him."  ,  They  very 
soon  reached  the  hotel,  and  were  at  once  shown  up  to 
Mr.  St.  Clair's  room. 

That  young  man  was  reclining  in  an  easy  chair,  smok- 
ing a  cigar,  and  reading  a  novel.    He  received  his  vis- 


tUEST.. 

,ce  is  sufficient  in 
ite  of  all  the  diffi- 
ve  not  felt  »o  dis- 
)  pleasure-seeking, 

er,  as  they  parted 
her;  and  without 
nee  with  one  per- 
me.  '    . ; - 

met  Lawrence. 
;he  course  of  their 
fied-looking    chap 
?" 
Valter,  careles/;'. 

about  him — Mr. 
is  a  gentleman  of 
ip,  and  is  stopping 
I  see  him  now.  I 
le  is  a  very  nice 
lim."  ,  They  very 
)nce  shown  up  to 

easy  chair,  smok- 
3  received  his  vis- 


'■fifjiMWJjMieinf-w""  *«-■ 


WALTER    hartley's   CONQUEST. 


201 


H^ 


iters  very  pleasantly;  and,  of  course,  after  the  first 
greetings,  ortbred  them  cigars,  which  Lawrence  accepted, 
but  Walter  declined. 

"You  have  not  begun  to  smoke  the  weed  yet,  Mr. 
Harley  ?  "  said  Mr.  St.  Clair.  "  That  pleasure  is  in  store 
for  you,  then."  ••  '  • ';    i' ■: 

"My  young  friend  has  some  conscientious  scruples 
about  smoking,  I  believe,'  said  Lawrence,  lightly.  "  But 
he  will  get  over  that  in  a  year  or  two." 

"  Oh,  yes,  he  must  indeed,"  sa,id  Mr.  St.  Clair.  "  It 
would  never  do  not  to  smoke  cigars,  at  least.  Come, 
make  a  beginning  now,  won't  you  ?  "  he  continued,  per- 
suasively. 

"  I  would  rather  not,  thank  you,"  said  Walter.  But 
his  cheeks  began  to  burn,  and  he  felt  very  uncomfortable. 
'  It  had  always  been  easy  for  him  to  stand  out  against 
smoking  among  the  boys  at  school,  where  he  was  a  leader, 
but  here  it  was  a  different  matter.  His  companions  evi- 
dently thought  him  very  odd  for  refusing.  He  began  to 
wish  himself  away.  Lawrence  and  Mr.  St,  Clair  puffed 
away,  and  talked,  and  seemed  quite  to  forget  Walter, 
who  felt  as  though  he  were  counted  by  them  as  a  mere 
boy.  A  half  hour  passed  before  Lawrence  made  any 
move  to  go.    At  length  he  rose. 

"  Mr.  Harley  lives  at  Elmwood,  the  place  you  admired 


202 


WALTER    HARLEY's   CONQUEST. 


BO  much.    We  passed  it  on  Saturday,  you  remember," 
said  Lawrence. 

"  Ah,  yes  ;  a  delightful  place,"  said  Mr.  St.  Clair. 
Walter,  of  course,  invited  him  to  call  with  Lawrence. 
"  I  shall  be  delighted,"  replied  Mr.  St.  Clair.  And  so 
they  parted.  Walter  was  by  no  means  comfortable. 
He  seemed  to  himself  to  be  drifting  still  fartlier  from 
what  after  all  he  most  valued.  He  had  not  forgotten 
the  conquest  he  had  resolved'  to  make,  but  just  now  it 
seemed  imperiled. 

Ari  Walter  was  walking  rapidly  home,  he  almost  ran 
against  Mary  Harrington,  who  was  coming  out  of  a 
store. 

"  Walter  Plarley,"  she  said,  as  they  walked  on  together, 
"  you  have  been  smoking.'' 

"Not  I,"  said  Walter.  "But  I  have  been  cooped 
up  in  a  room  for  half  an  hour  with  two  fellows  who 
were." 

"  Cousin  Lawrence  ?"  said  Mary. 
"  Yes,  and  his  friend,  Mr.  St.  Clair." 
"  Lawrence  is  such  a  coniirnied  smoker,"  said  Mary. 
"  I  don't  like  it  a  bit.     I  think  it  is  horrid.     I  am  so  glad 
you  are  against  it." 

"  It  is  hard,  though/'  said  Walter,  "  to  take  a  stand 
against  a  usage  so  common.    Perhaps  I  feel  it  more  diffi- 


lUEST. 

,  you  remember," 

Vlr.  St.  Clair. 
1  with  Lawrence. 
5t.  Clair.  And  so 
cans  comfortable, 
still  farther  from 
had  not  forgotten 
ke,  but  just  now  it 

me,  he  almost  ran 
coming  out  of  a 

ralked  on  together, 

lave  been  cooped 
i  two  fellows  who 


loker,"  said  Mary, 
rrid.    I  am  so  glad 

p,  "  to  take  a  stand 
I  feel  it  more  diffi- 


WALTiiR    HARLEY  S  CONQUEST. 


203 


cult  now  than  I  will  wlien  I  am  older.  It  seems  singular 
not  to  do  lis  otliers  do ;  and  one  does  hate  to  be  singular, 
especially  when  so  many  think  it  a  harmless  habit." 

"  Yes,  worldly  people  think  many  things  hariidcss  that 
are  not  so.  But  I  cannot  see  how  any  one  who  is  a  fol- 
lower of  Jesus  can  indulge  in  such  a  habit.  And  it  is 
better  to  win  the  approval  of  our  Master  than  that  of  the 
world,  is  it  not,  Walter?" 

"  I  am  afraid  I  fcjrgot  that  this  afternooUj  or  I  would 
not  have  found  it  so  difficult  to  say '  No  '  I  have  too  often 
been  ashamed  lately  to  show  myself  on  tlic  Lord's  side. 
You  do  not  know  how  much  you  helped  me  by  your 
words  the  other  evening." 

"  Did  I  ? "  said  Mary.  "  I  am  glad  I  helped  any 
one."  • 

"  Yes,  and  you  have  helped  me  this  afternoon.  I  tell 
you,  Mary,  if  there  were  more  girls  like  you,  who  would 
always  speak  out  on  the  side  of  everything  that  is  good 
and  pure  and  noble,  there  would  be  more  fellows  who 
would  try  to  live  right." 

"Would  there?"  said  Mary.  "Well,  I  am  sure  I 
always  will."  Then  she  Avent  on  to  tell  Walter  that  her 
father  was  going  to  send  her  to  a  ladies'  college  in  the 
spring ;  and  she  felt  as  though  that  would  be  a  beginning 
of  the  preparation  for  her  life  work. 


'■i  ^"S.>iaiW#J^ia'S^<:8J3»!4,-"NciLj..:<.U'' 


1 


204 


WALTER    HABLEY's  CONQUEST. 


Walter  felt  a  natural  regret  at  the  thought  oi  losing  so 
pleasant  a  companion.  He  realized  too,  more  than  Mary 
did,  that  they  would  never  be  boy  and  girl  together 
again.  And  who  could  tell  how  far  apart  their  lives 
might  be  I     I  ■ 


[QUEST.       • 

ihought  of  losing  so 
10,  more  than  Mary 
and  girl  together 
r  apart  their  lives 


CHAPTER  XIX.  •  " 

THE   CRICKET   CLUB. 

AS  winter  came  on  Walter  became  involved  in  a  round 
of  parties  and  social  entertainments  that  quite  put 
all  thought  of  other  things  out  of  his  mind. 

"  Walter,"  said  his  mother,  one  evening,  "  could  you 
not  go  to  prayer  meeting  to-night?  It  is  a  long  time 
since  you  have  been  there." 

"  I  could  not,  indeed,  to-night,  mamma,  I  have  so  many 
lessons  to  study.    Perhaps  I  will  go  next  week." 

"  How  is  it  that  your  lessons  never  trouble  you  when 
it  is  a  question  of  going  to  some  place  of  amusement  ?  " 
said  his  mother,  quietly. 

"  Now,  mother,  surely  I  would  not  be  a  natural  boy  at 
all  if  I  only  went  to  prayer  meetings.  I  would  be  like 
the  boys  in  the  Sunday-school  books — too  good  to  live." 

"  Did  I  say  you  were  to  go  only  to  meetings,  Walter  ? 
You  know  full  well  that  I  wish  you  to  enjoy  all  that  is 
worth  enjoying ;  but  how  is  it  when  your  amusements,  or 
so-called  recreations,  take  up  so  much  of  your  time  and 
strength,  that  you  never  can  go  to  prayer  meeting  ?  " 

"  To  say  the  truth,  I  would  make  more  effort  to  go  if 

206 


'';fej^sa*:.xsife^iirtsftg^ 


206 


WAL'i'ER    barley's   CONQUEST. 


they  were  not  so  dull,"  returned  Walter.  "  They  are  not 
half  so  interesting  as  they  were.  You  know  how  ii  is, 
mother.  About  the  same  ones  take  part  at  each  meet- 
ing ;  there  is  very  little  variety  in  the  prayers,  and  the 
singing  usually  is  anything  but  inspiring,  to  say  the  least. 
And  then  you  know  there  are  so  few  who  attend." 

"  Yes,  I  know.  But  are  you  sure  that  the  change  ia 
not  somewhat  in  yourself?  Our  good  pastor  always 
says  encouragint'  helpful  words.  If  there  are  not  many 
to  hear  them,  could  you  not  bring  some  of  the  absent 
ones  back  again  ?  If  only  a  few  take  part,  it  is  all  the 
more  reason  why  you  should  go  and  say  a  few  words." 

"  Well,  the  fact  is,  I  don't  care  to  speak,  for  I  do  not 
always  act  just  as  I  should— that  is,  I  am  not  perfect,  you 
know ;  and  I  think  I  will  have  more  influence  over  some 
if  I  do  not  take  such  an  open  part.  Some  have  a  preju- 
dice against  such  things."  ;        ft 

His  mother  made  no  reply.  After  a  few  moments' 
silence,  she  said : 

"  How  are  you  getting  on  about  the  cricket  club  ?  Do 
you  expect  to  have  one  next  summer  ?  " 

"Yes,'-  replied  Walter,  growing  animated  at  once. 
"  We  will  certainly  have  one  then.  We  mean  to  talk 
it  up  this  winter." 

"  Oh,  you  intend  to  speak  your  views  out  openly,  do 


Jl 


lUEST. 

r.  "  Tliey  are  not 
u  know  how  ii  is, 
jart  at  each  met^t- 
',  prayers,  and  the 
ig,  to  say  the  least, 
ho  attend." 
hat  the  change  is 
od  pastor  always 
lere  are  not  many 
me  of  the  absent 
part,  it  is  all  the 
y  a  few  words." 
peak,  for  I  do  not 
n  not  perfect,  you 
fluence  over  some 
ame  have  a  preju- 

a  few  moments' 

ricket  club  ?    Do 

limated  at  once. 
Ne  mean  to  talk 

re  out  openly,  do 


WALTEa    HAULEY's  CONQUEST. 


207 


you  ?  "  said  his  mother.  "  Would  you  not  have  more 
influence  over  those  who  do  not  favor  the  idea  by  taking 
a  neutral  stand  ?  " 

Walter  looked  at  his  mother  comically. 

"  Now,  mother,  it  is  too  bad  to  catch  me  in  that  way. 
I  really  ought  to  be  studying  this  lesson.  I  will  think  up 
an  answer  to  your  question  by  to-raorrow.''  And  Walter 
buried  himself  in  his  books,  while  his  mother  left  the 
room,  and  in  solitude  poured  out  her  anxieties  before 
that  Heavenly  Friend  who  had  proved  a  present  help 
through  all  her  life,  pleading  that  her  only  son  might 
live  a  life  that  should  be  wholly  consecrated  to  the 
service  of  Christ.  She  had  become  very  sensible  of  the 
change  in  Walter.  She  knew  too,  whence  that  change 
had  largely  come,  and  that  she  had  not  been  at  fault  in 
the  estimate  she  had  formed  of  Lawrence  Orme's  charac- 
ter and  influence.  What  remedy  to  apply  was  not  so 
clear.  And  so  her  anxious  mother  heart  carried  her 
boy  to  him  from  whom  wisdom  is  promised,  and  whose 
grace  is  ever  present  in  the  time  of  need. 

That  cricket  club  came  to  the  front  again  in  Walter's 

mind,  and  he  began  to  urge  it  upon  his  classmates.    The 

boys  :  oon  became  enthusiastic,  and  a  meeting  was  called 

for  orgBnization. 

Much  to^Walter's  disappointment,  when  the  night  of 


■  m^ 


11 


^-.N»;.'/a'!^^;a-MM^iHW'ajhj4.'iiAJij^iit,.^-iiA:.w.M;^t'i'^ai,'' 


'^i^l' i-X-'-ii-    TU-.i'.- 


208  WALTER    HARLEY's  CONQUEST. 

the  meeting  ^•'^o,  he  »va8  unable  to  be  present,  na  he  had 
a  severe  sick  headache.  He  could  not  go  to  school  the 
next  day,  and  awaited  with  impatience  news  of  the 
doings  of  the  previous  evening.  Bennie  Harris  came 
up  in  the  afternoon. 

"  Wh  vt  news  about  the  cricket  club? "  said  Walter. 

"  Oh,  it  is  formed  nil  right,"  replied  Bennie.  "Arthur 
Somers  is  president,  and  you  have  been  made  secretary 
and  treasurer." 

It  must  be  confessed  that  Walter  was  surprised  and 
considerably  disaj)j)ointed  to  find  that  he  had  not  been 
chosen  president.  He  said  nothing,  however,  and  Bennie 
continued  : 

"  I  do  not  see  why  you  could  not  act'  as  president. 
I  am  sure  almost  all  the  boys  wanted  you,  and  we  ex- 
pected you  to  be." 

"Well,  I  could  not  act  as  president  unless  I  was 
chosen,  you  know,  Ben,"  said  Walter. 

"  Why,  you  would  hav  been,  only  Ned  Brookes  was 
canvaasing  for  Arthur,  and  he  told  the  boys  that  you 
had  said  to  him  that  you  did  not  wish  to  be  presi- 
dent ;  that  you  would  not  be  able  to  attend  the  meetings 
regularly." 

"  I  never  said  any  such  thing,"  said  Walter,  an  angry 
flush  coming  into  his  cheek.    "  I  do  not  know  what  Ned 


^ 


[QUEST. 

!  preseut,  aa  he  had 
t  go  to  school  the 
ence  news  of  the 
iiinic  Harris  came 

?  "  said  Walter. 
Bennie,     "Arthur 
sen  made  secretary 

was  surprised  and 
:  he  had  not  been 
wever,  and  Bennie 

;  act"  08  president, 
d  you,  and  we  ex- 

ient  unless  I  was 

Ned  Brookes  was 
the  boys  that  you 

wish  to  be  presi- 
ttend  the  meetings 

.  Walter,  an  angry 
3t  know  what  Ned 


sto'r 


r^ 


WALTER    barley's  CX)XQUE8T. 


209 


means  by  saying  so.  But  then  it  is  of  a  piece  with  the 
unfriendliness  he  h?8  shown  toward  me  lately." 

"  I  did  not  bclievj  you  ever  said  that.  I  was  sure  you 
would  be  willing  to  act  as  president." 

"  I  remember  now,"  said  Walter,  "  that  one  day,  when 
I  was  feeling  so  wretchedly  after  I  had  the  fever,  some 
one  mentioned  the  cricket  club,  and  I  said,  '  You  will 
have  to  go  ahead  now,  Arthur,  I  do  not  feel  able.' 
Ned  Brookes  was  standing  by ;  but  he  might  have 
known  better  than  to  suppose  that  I  felt  in  that  way 
now.  It  was  just  an  excuse,  no  doubt.  He  does  not 
like  me." 

"  He  said  Arthur  Somers  would  not  lead  us  into  so 
much  expense  as  you  would." 

"  Oh,  what  nonsense  I  As  though  I  could  do  anything 
without  the  consent  of  the  club.  I  suppose  Ned  thinks 
that  he  can  easily  make  Arthur  do  anything  he  wants  him 
to.  Arthur  is  too  easily  led  one  way  or  the  other  to 
make  a  good  president.  Well,  it  relieves  me  of  a  good 
deal  of  responsibility ;  so  I  don't  mind." 

But  he  did  mind,  and  kept  brooding  over  what  he 

termed  Ned's  meanness.    Walter  had  been  foremost  in 

promoting  the  formation  of  the  club.    Not  unnaturally, 

he  expected  to  be  president ;    and  it  was  hard  to  see 

another,  whom  he  honestly  believed  would  not  do  so 

O 


r^nmmmmm 


210  WALTER    IIARLEY's   CX)NQUEST. 

well,  put  in  the  post  of  honor.     When  he  told  Lina 
about  it,  she  placed  the  subject  in  a  new  light. 

"  I  thought  you  would  have  been  president,"  she  said ; 
"but,  after  all,  it  is  better  that  it  is  Arthur,  is  it  not? 
He  is  very  diffident,  you  know,  and  lacks  confidence  in 
himself.  It  will  bring  hiui  out ;  and  I  have  no  doubt 
he  will  do  well." 
"He  may,  if  he  does  not  listen  to  Ned  Brookes." 
"  But  is  it  not  well  that  there  is  some  one  for  president 
who  will  listen  to  Ned  ?  Has  he  not  as  much  right  as 
others  to  express  his  views  ?  and  ought  not  his  opinions 
to  have  some  weight  ?  " 

"  Yes,  if  they  were  not  so  queer." 
"  Perhaps  he  thinks  the  same  of  your  ideas." 
"  No,  he  just  opposes  for  the  sake  of  it.     He  is  growing 
as  disagreeable  and  selfish  as  he  can  be." 

He  did  not  think  just  then  that  his  bearing  toward 
Ned  had  possibly  something  to  do  with  their  relations. 
I'srhaps,  too,  Walter  would  have  felt  difierently  if  he 
could  at  that  moment  have  joined  Ned  and  Mr.  Har- 
rison, who  were  walking  together,  and  could  have  over- 
heard their  conversation. 

"  It  is  no  use  trying  any  longer ;  everything  is  going 
to  wreck  and  ruin  in  our  house,  and  all  through  drink." 
Ned  spoke  in  a  hard,  bitter  tone.    "  I  suppose,"  he  con- 


QUEST. 

hen  he  told  Lina 
sw  light. 

csidcnt,"  fthe  said ; 

Arthur,  is  it  not? 

icks  confidence  in 

I  have  no  douht 

ed  Brookes." 
D  one  for  president 
,  (18  much  riglit  as 
it  not  his  opinions 


ir  ideas."      ' 

it.     He  is  growing 

!." 

lis  bearing  toward 
th  their  relations. 
t  differently  if  he 
ed  and  Mr.  Har- 
could  have  over- 

erything  is  going 
1  through  drink." 
suppose,"  he  con- 


WAI.TKR    HAUI.EV  8   CONQUEST. 


211 


tinned,  "they  all  tliink  nie  a  cross-grained  mortal;  but 
pcrliajw  some  of  the  otiiers  would  bo  no  better  than  I  am 
if  they  wore  placed  in  the  same  circuinHtanccs.  It  is  easy 
enough  to  be  good-natured  when  everything  is  pleanant 
around  one.  There  is  Walter  Hurley.  He  has  every- 
thing he  wants.  His  father  is  highly  thought  of,  and  be 
has  a  good  chani;e  in  life.  Of  course,  it  is  easy  for  him 
to  be  agreeable.  He  is  never  very  pleasant  to  me, 
though." 

"To  tell  the  truth,'"  Mr.  Harrison  said,  "you  and 
Walter  misunderstand  one  another.  He  is  hurt  because 
you  are  cold  and  distant  toward  him ;  and  now,  I  think, 
he  feels  aggrieved  because  you  opposed  the  formation  of 
a  cri'^.et  club."  For  Ned  had  not  at  first  been  in  favor 
of  such  a  club. 

"  Well,  I  would  have  liked  a  cricket  club  as  well  as 
any  one,  only  I  knew  it  meant  exjxinse ;  and  wc  have  no 
money  to  spare — not  a  cent ;  for  father  is  getting  deeper 
in  debt  all  the  time,  and  I  do  not  know  how  it  is  going 
to  end."  The  gloomy  look  that  Ned  so  often  wore  deep- 
ened. "  I  used  to  hope  father  would  reform :  I  have 
given  that  up  long  ago.  I  do  not  see  why  I  am  placed 
where  everything  is  against  me.  Il  is  hard  to  live  right 
with  such  influences  around  one.  I  feel  sometimes  as 
though  I  would  give  up  trying.     I  have  wanted  to  do 


-m' 


212  WALTKU   iiarlwv'h  conqitkst. 

right  niul  be  a  triio  iiuin,  and  I  wiint  to  now ;  but  some- 
times  it  HeetiiH  oh  thoii^'h  I  iiiiglit  us  well  give  up." 

"  Come,  Ned,  you  imist  not  bo  so  discouraged,"  said 
Mr,  IIiirriHoii.  "Your  difficulties  miiy  become  liel[)fl  to 
you  if  you  meet  them  in  the  right  way.  Tlio  trials  that 
boset  you  are  doul)tlcs8  the  very  ones  needed  to  develop 
true  manhood  in  you.  (Jod  has  a  glorious  plan  for  each 
one  of  his  children.  Will  you  let  him  carry  it  on  by 
what  rneaiis  he  sees  fit,  and  so  become  a  vesHel  unto 
honor ;  or  will  you  mar  it  by  your  freti'ulness  and  imjta- 
tienco,  and  so  fail  to  become  what  you  might?  The 
trouble  is  you  looi<  at  others  more  favorably  placed  than 
yourself,  and  then  you  tiiink  you  are  harshly  dealt  with 
because  you  are  not  so  favored.  How  can  you  expect 
help  and  grace  while  you  cheriah  tliis  spirit  of  repining 
and  rcbt'liou?"  ' 

"  I  do  always  fret,"  replied  Ned ;  "  sometimes  I 

feel  simjily  discouraged." 

"  But  you  have  the  promises,  Ned.  Has  not  God 
promised  to  be  with  liis  people  ?  And  he  who  has  God 
with  him  must  surely  come  off  conqueror." 

"  I  am  not  good  enough  to  claim  tiie  promises,"  said 
Ned,  sadly. 

"  Ah !  there  you  make  a  mistake.  Tiie  most  blessed 
promises  are  conditioned  on  our  need  and  weakness,  not 


to  now ;  but  Home- 
ill  givn  u])." 
tlisc'oiiriifjed,"  said 
ly  become  hel[)fl  to 
'.  The  triiilri  that 
needed  to  develop 
riouH  plan  for  eiich 
im  carry  it  on  by 
)n\o  a  vessel  unto 
ti'ulnes.'j  and  inipa- 
you  might?  The 
orably  placed  than 
liarahly  dealt  with 
ow  can  you  expect 
)  spirit  of  repining 

ed ;  "  sometimes  I 

id.    Has  not  God 

id  he  who  has  God 

ror." 

lie  promises,"  said 

Tlie  most  blessed 
and  weakness,  not 


WAI.TKU    MAUI.KYM   COXqUKST. 


213 


on  our  goodness.  Go  hoiuu  and  open  your  llible,  and 
see  whether,  with  wucli  |)romi!)eH  tmd  such  u  Havioiir,  you 
have  any  cause  to  be  discouraged." 

"  I  fear  I  huvo  wandered  awuy  front  him,''  aaid  Ned, 
in  a  low  voice.  ^  s 

"  Then,  my  dear  boy,  come  back  now ;  do  not  wait  any 
longer.  '  Return  unto  me,  and  I  will  return  unto  you, 
saith  the  Lord.'  That  is  a  promise  for  you.  And  hope 
on  yet  about  your  father,  and  pray  for  him ;  and  bring 
all  your  troubles  to  your  Ifjavonly  Friend,  and  your 
burdens  will  be  ligiitened.  God  bless  you,  my  boy." 
And  Mr.  Harrison  pressed  his  hand  warmly. 

"  Pray  for  me,'  said  Ned. 

"  Do  you  suppose  I  can  ever  forget  to  do  that  for  '  my 
boys '  ?  "  Mr.  Harrison  answered. 

And  so  they  parted :  the  faithful  teacher,  to  go  on 
his  way  with  deej)encd  interest  in  one  whose  conduct 
had  often  puzzled  him ;  the  burdened  lad,  with  new 
courage  and  hope. 

If  Walter  could  have  known  all  this,  his  sympathies 
would  have  been  instantly  awakened,  and  he  would  have 
forgiven  everything..  But  he  did  not  know;  so  he  kei)t  on 
thinking  what  a  mean,  crusty  sort  of  a  fellow  Ned  was, 
and  resolved  to  give  him  a  piece  of  his  mind  at  the  .irst 
opportunity.    Of  course,  the  feelings  he  cherished  influ- 


214  WALTER   barley's   CONQUEST, 

enced  his  bearing  toward  Ned.  And  so  the  breach 
between  the  boys  widened. 

But,  after  all,  Walter  wanted  to  do  what  was  right; 
and  the  more  he  thought  of  it  the  more  he  felt  that 
the  best  way  was  to  say  nothing.  To  tell  Ned  just 
what  he  thought  about  him  would  be,  at  the  best, 
but  a  petty  self-gratification.  So  far  he  went,  but  no 
farther.     He  still  felt  indignant  at  Ned. 

It  so  happened  that  the  very  first  day  that  Walter  was 
able  to  go  to  cchool,  he  saw  Ned  on  the  road  ahead  of 
him.  Ned  was  walking  very  slowly,  so  Walter  knew  he 
must  overtake  him.  The  battle  raged  in  his  heart  anew. 
Ho^yever,  he  resolved  to  say  nothing,  but  to  be  just 
distant  and  cool  enough  ij:  manner  to  show  him  what  ho 
thought  of  him,  Then,  quick  as  a  flash,  came  the 
thought :  "  That  is  a  half-and-half  way  of  doing ;  that 
is  Ect  the  Christlike  way  of  forgiving,  and  loving,  and 
passing  by  a  fault."  There  were  many  contending 
thoughts  in  Walter's  mind,  but  I  know  this  one  must 
have  conquered ;  for  it  was  a  very  cheery  "  good-morn- 
ing" that  Ned  heard  a  few  minutes  ^iter,  when,  looking 
up,  he  saw  Walter  Hurley's  beaming  face.  Walter 
passed  on  with  a  gladness  in  his  heart  such  as  only  he 
knows  who  "ruleth  his  spirit,"  while  Ned's  heart  grew 
light:  it  was  to  him  a  token  of  good  in  his  upward 


«^ 


QUEST, 

Lnd  so  the  breach 

lo  what  was  right; 

more  he  felt  that 

To  teJl  Ned  just 

be,   at  the  best, 

r  he  went,  but  no 

!d. 

ay  that  Walter  was 
the  road  ahead  of 
30  Walter  knew  he 
I  in  his  heart  anew, 
ag,  but  to  be  just 
show  him  what  ho 
a  flash,  came  the 
'ay  of  doing ;  that 
g,  and  loving,  and 
many  contending 
now  this  one  must 
iheery  "good-morn- 
ater,  when,  looking 
ing  face.  Walter 
irt  such  as  only  he 
1  Ned's  heart  grew 
tod  in  his  upward 


WALTER    HARLEY's  CONQUEST. 


215 


struggle.  From  this  time  forward  there  was  no  lack  of 
kindly  feeling  between  the  two  boys.  Each  helped  the 
other  too.  Ned  had  qualities  which  Walter  lacked ;  and 
he  in  turn,  from  what  he  was  and  from  his  more  favored 
surroundings,  gave  many  an  inspiration  to  the  struggling 
boy. 


s 


w 


■ftS 


'Me.L-."!flta'^>fM!w,tfwwH''« 


CHAPTER  XX. 


PHILIPS   RETURN. 


DECEMBER  had  come.  The  first  fleecy  snowflakes 
had  fallen,  covering  the  brown  and  faded  earth 
with  a  fair,  wliUu  mantle.  Pond  and  stream  were  bound 
fast  in  their  icy  fetters.  The  trees  stood  bare  and  weird- 
like, and  yet  did  not  seem  otherwise  than  in  ko"  .ng 
with  the  scene  as  they  stood  in  relief  against  the  wintry 
sky.  Almost  all  signs  of  life  had  vanished  from  field 
and  wood,  and  winter  had  fastened  a  grip  on  nature  that 
only  the  spring  sunshine  by-and-by  would  make  him  let 
go.  There  was  an  attractiveness  in  it  all  to  one  who 
loved  nature;  but  it  Avaa  an  attractiveness  that  would 
make  the  warmth  of  home  all  the  more  grateful. 

Mrs.  Harley  sat  in  the  cosy  library  at  Elmwood  busily 
sewing.  Carrie  was  jierched  by  the  window,  looking,  not 
at  the  snow,  nor  at  the  little  snow  birds  hopping  about  the 
avenue,  bat  was  watching  for  Walter.  She  had  some- 
thing very  important  to  tell  him,  and  she  could  not  even 
tell  mamma  what  it  was.  At  length  Walter  appeared, 
striding  along  through  the  snow.  Then  came  the  stamp- 
ing of  feet  at  the  doorway,  and  Carrie  ran  to  meet  him. 
216 


pf 


fleecy  snowflakes 

and  faded  earth 
tream  were  bound 
d  bare  and  weird- 

than  in  kc  iiig 
gainst  the  wintry 
nished  from  fiehl 
•ip  on  nature  that 
ild  make  him  let 
t  all  to  one  who 
eness  that  would 

grateful. 

t  Elm  wood  busily 
dow,  looking,  not 
lopping  about  the 
She  had  some- 
le  could  not  even 
Walter  appeared, 
I  came  the  stamp- 
'an  to  meet  him. 


VVALTEU    HARLEY's  CONQUEST. 


217 


"Oh,  Walter,  you  can  never  guess  what  I  want  to  tell 
you  I"  she  cried,  and  she  looked  very  curiously  and 
ea/jerly  at  her  brother  as  he  glanced  smilingly  down 
upon  her.  SUe  was  a  winsome  little  maiden,  and  her 
brother  was  very  fond  of  her. 

Of  course,  Walter  did  a  good  deal  of  guessing,  hut 
failed  every  time,  and  at  last  Carrie  had  to  tell  him. 

"  Philip  is  coming  home  on  Monday,"  she  said. 

"  Why,  his  vacati m  does  not  begin  yet,  docs  it  ?  Who 
lold  you,  Carrie?" 

"Elsie  told  me,'"  replied  the  little  girl.  "It  is  not 
vacation  yet ;  but  Philip  is  not  feeling  well,  and  he  is 
allowed  to  come  home  and  rest,  for  he  is  away  ahead  of 
his  class." 

"  Hurrah ! "  And  Walter  tossed  up  his  cap.  "  Mother, 
Philip  is  coming  home  Monday,"  he  said. 

"So  that  is  the  secret,  Carrie,  that  you  were  ao  anxious 
to  tell  Walter? "  said  Mrs.  Harley. 

"Yes;  isn't  it  lovely ? "  said  Carrie. 
■    "  It  is  the  best  news  I  have  had  to-day,"  said  Walter. 

Elsie  was  Philip's  younger  sister,  and  was  devotedly 
fond  of  her  big  brother.  Carrie  and  Elsie  were  fast 
friends,  and  whatever  pleased  Elsie  pleased  Carrie ;  so 
she  too  was  delighted  at  the  prospect  of  Philip's  return. 

Monday  came,  and  with  it  came  Philip,  looking  rather 


-"f*" 


;  l,;j-i.g-9'>>jr'»»ig-" 


218 


WALTER    HAULEY's   CONQUEST. 


worn  and  tired,  yet  as  earnest  and  animated  as  when 
Walter  saw  him  in  the  summer.  There  was  something, 
however,  which  aroused  a  fear  in  the  mind  of  the  younger 
boy.  Ho  could  not  help  thinking  of  that  beautiful  day 
when  they  lay  beside  the  sea,  and  that  far-away  look 
came  into  Philip's  face;  when  there  flashed  upon  tho 
mind  of  his  friend  the  thought  of  the  "land  that  is  very 
far  off,"  rather  than  Scotland,  which  just  then  was  the 
goal  of  the  ardent  young  student's  hopes. 

In  the  days  that  followed,  Walter  was  often  with  his 
friend.  He  did  nat  know  why  it  was,  but  he  never  could 
be  in  Philip's  company  without  feeling  that  he  was  made 
better;  that  every  aspiration  after  that  which  is  good 
was  strengthened — that,  in  fact,  he  was  drawn  nearer  to 
Christ ;  nor  was  he  the  only  one  who  felt  the  influence 
of  that  Christlike  life. 

Why  was  it  ?  Perhaps  this  had  something  to  do  with 
it.  Nay,  let  us  not  use  the  word  perhaps  I  The  evening 
before  Philip  returned  he  had  taken  out  the  well-worn 
Bible,  and  read  these  words  from  1  Chron.  16  :  43: 
"David  returned  to  bless  his  house."  And  then  he 
asked  his  Heavenly  Father  that  he  too  might  return  to 
bless  his  house,  and  to  be  a  blessing  to  all  whom  he 
might  meet.  ' 

Can  we  doubt  that  the  answer  to  such  a  prayer  would 


QUEST. 

animated  as  when 
3re  was  something, 
ind  of  the  younger 
that  beautiful  day 
hat  far-away  look 
flashed  upon  tho 
"land  that  is  very 
just  then  was  the 
)es. 

was  often  with  his 
but  he  never  could 
'  that  he  was  made 
hat  which  is  good 
IS  drawn  nearer  to 
felt  the  influence 

nething  to  do  with 
ips  I  The  evening 
out  the  well-worn 
L  Chron.  16  :  43: 
"  And  then  he 
0  might  return  to 
to  all  whom  he 

ch  a  prayer  would 


-*i* 


WAI.TEB   HAULEY's  CONQUEST, 


219 


be  vouchsafed?     The  following  weeks  testified  to  the 
answer  that  came. 

Philip  had  many  inquiries  to  make  of  Walter  concern- 
ing the  church  work.  Were  the  younger  members  still 
zealous?    How  was  Stonewny  Mission  getting  on?  etc. 

Walter  was  obliged,  with  some  shame,  to  confess  that 
he  had  not  been  very  active  himself  lately,  and  so  had 
not  much  to  tell. 

Philip  looked  rather  disappointed,  and  said : 

"  Has  the  work  become  uninteresting,  Walter?  " 

"  I  do  not  know  that  it  is  uninteresting.  I  could  not 
do  much  for  a  while  after  I  had  the  fever ;  and  then- 
well,  I  got  out  of  the  way  of  it.  There  are  so  many 
other  things  to  take  up  one's  time  and  attention." 

"And  the  other  things  are  more  important?"  ques- 
tioned Philip. 

"  Perhaps  you  might  not  think  so ;  but  I  rejdly  do  not 
know  how  to  avoid  these  engagements;  for  instance,  I 
have  been  asked  to  quite  a  number  of  parties.  I  could 
not  very  well  refuse,  and  they  are  pleasant  too." 

"Gay  parties  with  dancing,  I  suppose?  "  said  Philip. 

"  Yes,"  returned  Walter,  a  little  hesitatingly.  "  There 
are  very  few  parties  without  dancing:  one  need  not 
dance,  though." 

"  It  is  rather  dull  unless  you  do,  is  it  not? " 


220  WALTER    HAKLEY's   CONQUEST. 


"  Rather,"  said  Walter.    "  Then  I  practiced  for  ama- 
teur theatricals.    That  took  a  precious  lot  of  time,  I  can 
tell  you  ;  but  that  might  be  counted  a  good  work,  a&  it 
was  for  the  benefit  of  St.  Urban's  Church." 
Philip  smiled. 

"  I  do  not  think  a  church  can  do  much  Christian  work 
on  those  lines,"  he  said. 

"  Well,  I  was  asked,  and  could  not  refuse.  One  must 
use  ones  talents,  you  know.  There  will  be  a  rush  of  all 
such  engagements  after  the  New  Year,  and  I  cannot  see 
how  I  can  avoid  them.  One  might  as  well  be  out  of  the 
world  as  to  refuse  to  engage  in  such  things ;  and  I  cannot 
see  the  harm  in  them,  either." 

"And  then,"  said  Philip,  "you  like  them"?  You  enjoy 
these  things  better  than  mission  work,  or  Sunday-school 
teaching,  or  j)rayer  mei     ig  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Walter,  frankly,  "  I  do ;  and  I  often  wish 
it  were  otherwise.  I  would  like  to  be  a  decided  Chris- 
tian— wholly  on  the  Lor-I's  side." 

"You  find  yourself  thinking  what  the  world  will  say 
of  your  actions,  do  you  not?  "  questioned  Philip.  "And 
more  and  more  look  at  things  from  its  standpoint,  and 
fail  to  see  them  as  God  sees  them." 

"  Yes,  perhaps  so,"  replied  Walter,  thoughtfully. 

"  Then  do  you  not  see  what  hai-m  these  worldly  pleu- 


«*■ 


QUEST. 

[)racticGd  for  amo- 
8  lot  of  time,  I  can 
a  good  work,  as  it 
irch." 

ich  Christian  work 

refuse.  One  must 
ill  be  a  rush  of  all 
',  and  I  cannot  see 
well  be  out  of  the 
ings;  and  I  cannot 

them"  ?  You  enjoy 
I  or  Sunday-school 

;  and  I  often  wish 
a  decided  Chria- 

he  world  will  say 
ed  Philip.  "And 
ts  standpoint,  and 

houghtfully. 

lese  worldly  pleu- 


-'W. 


WALTER    HARLEYS   CONQUEST. 


221 


Bures  have  already  worked  in  you.  Of  course,  you  are 
thrown  into  the  society  of  people  whose  thoughts,  aims, 
and  principles  of  conduct  are  directly  opposite  to  those 
of  the  true  Christian ;  and  your  Christian  life  must  be 
weakened  by  their  influence." 

"  I  am  afraid  it  is  as  you  say,  Piiilip ;  but,  as  I  said 
before,  I  do  not  see  how  I  can  help  it.  It  would  be  very 
hard  to  decline  invitations  on  a  religious  ground." 

"  No  doubt  it  would  require  some  moral  heroism,"  re- 
plied Philip ;  "  yet,  if  your  hands  were  filled  with  work 
for  the  Master,  you  would  fi'^a  that  you  had  no  time  for 
these  other  things ;  and,  after  all,  it  is  not  very  hard 
when  we  have  Jesus  to  give  up  something  for  him.  You 
will  find  all  along,  Walter,  as  you  go  through  life,  it 
must  be  one  thing  or  the  other.  You  cannot  serve  God 
and  Mammon  ;  a  life  of  devotion  to  Christ  and  a  life  of 
devotion  to  the  world  canjiot  be  blended  in  one.  And, 
oh,  Walter !  I  w  ish  you  could  feel,  as  I  do,  how  worth- 
less worldly  honors,  or  pleasures,  or  riches  are,  compared 
with  Christ ! " 

"  I  believe  you  are  right,  Philip,"  said  Walter. 

"  Is  not  that  the  teaching  of  the  Bible  all  through  ?  " 
'Forme  +  live  is  Christ,  and  to  die  is  gain,'  is  surely  the 
privilege  of  all  Christians  to  say." 

"  I  wish  that  it  might  be  true  of  me,"  said  Walter ; 


HP" 


f^ 


...   :d 


222 


WALTER    HAni.EY's   CONQUEST 


"yet  I  am 80  afraid  that  I  shall  yield  when  the  temptation 
comes,  and  grow  cold  and  half-hearted." 

"  Let  U8  make  it  our  prayer,  then,  that  you  may  count 
the  service  of  Christ  your  highest  joy,  and  enter  on  the 
new  year  in  a  spirit  of  consecration  to  him." 

The  answer  came,  but  in  a  way  they  little  expected. 

In  the  days  that  followed,  Walter  sj)ent  many  happy 
hours  at  Philip's  home,  becoming  better  acquainted 
wita  the  other  members  of  the  family  than  he  had  ever 
been. 

There  were  three  besides  Philip.  Lottie,  a  gay  young 
lady  of  sixteen ;  George,  a  headstrong  lad,  just  turned 
twelve ;  and  Elsie,  a  gentle  little  girl,  about  ten  years  old. 
Mrs.  Ray  had  been  a  widow  for  eight  years,  her  husband, 
Colonel  Kay,  falling  a  victim,  while  yet  in  the  prime  of 
life,  to  consun-pdon.  He  left  his  widow  in  comfortable 
circumstances,  and  she  was  thus  enabled  to  send  Philip, 
her  eldest  son,  to  college. 

Mrs.  Ray,  naturally  reserved,  went  through  every 
changing  experience  with  outward  composure,  and  few 
perhaps  guessed  how  strong  were  her  affections. 

Philip,  since  his  return,  had  been  the  life  of  the  family ; 
and  though  his  mother  said  but  little,  it  was  evident  that 
her  thoughts  and  hopes  were  centred  in  her  eldest  son. 
She  had  bestowed  much  of  thought  and  means  upon  his 


QUEST 

hen  the  temptation 

hat  you  may  count 
and  enter  on  the 
him." 

'  little  expected. 
\y>ent  many  happy 
better  acquainted 
than  he  had  ever 


lOttie,  a  gay  young 
g  lad,  just  turned 
bout  ten  years  old. 
ears,  her  husband, 
it  in  the  prime  of 
3W  in  comfortable 
led  to  send  Philip, 

at  through  every 
)mpo8ure,  and  few 
Sections. 

life  of  the  family ; 
t  was  evident  that 

in  her  eldest  son. 
id  means  upon  his 


WALTER   HARLEY  8   CONQUEST. 


223 


education;  and  nc^  that  he  seemed  almost  ready  to 
enter  active  life,  her  hope  became  more  intense.  Some- 
times the  chill  of  a  fear  would  creep  into  her  heart ;  but 
yet  it  did  not  seem  possible  that  anything  could  happen 
to  her  boy. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 


THE  CHRISTMAB  IIOLIDAY8. 


THE  glad  Christmas  soiisou  was  near,  and  Waltor's 
haiuU  were  full  of  work  and  his  heart  full  of 
thoughts  for  others ;  for  he  did  want  to  make  as  many  as 
possible  happy  at  this  Chrlstmastide.  So  many  things 
his  skillful  fingers  had  made,  it  was  little  wonder  he  sur- 
veyed them  with  real  pleasure.  Toy  furniture  for  his 
sister's  doll  iiouse ;  brackets  and  book  racks,  and  so  forth, 
for  older  friends.  Nor  were  absent  ones  forgotten ;  for 
there  was  a  home-made  scrap  album,  nild  a  handsome 
ship  for  invalid  Jamie.  With  much  labor  and  patience, 
he  had  made  a  table  for  Nurse  Brown  ;  and  when  Lina 
covered  it,  and  hung  around  it  a  drapery  worked  by  her 
own  deft  fingers,  it  looked  very  pretty,  and  they  knew  it 
would  be  appreciated ;  for  Nurse  Brown  dearly  loved 
pretty  things.  And  then  it  was  such  a  pleasure  to  be 
able  to  surprise  Uncle  George  with  twenty  doUai-s  for  his 
Sunday-school.  And  the  pleasantest  part  of  Christmas 
was  Uncle  George's  letter  of  thanks. 

Another  tiling  happened  that  madr  \Valter's  heart  glad. 

He  had  begun  to  take  an  interest  in  the  prayer  meetings 
224 


m>* 


rmi-ilBmi,  MHj^iljf"," 


>AYB. 

near,  and  Wnltor's 
I  his  heart  full  of 
to  make  as  many  as 
3.  So  many  things 
ittle  wonder  ho  sur- 
)y  furniture  for  his 
;  racks,  and  so  foi  th, 
;  ones  forgotten ;  for 
m,  aild  a  handsome 
hihor  and  patience, 
m  ',  and  when  Lina 
pery  worked  by  her 
;y,  and  they  knew  it 
Jrown  dearly  loved 
ih  a  pleasure  to  be 
iventy  doUai-s  for  his 
t  part  of  Christmas 

AValter's  heart  glad, 
the  prayer  meetings 


WAI.TEn    HAIII^EYS  COXQITKST. 


225 


again ;  worldly  amusements  had  less  fascination  fur 
him  ;  the  things  perfuiiiing  to  the  service  of  Christ  had 
far  more.  Then,  as  is  always  the  case,  his  heart  went 
out  toward  others.  When  the  fire  is  bright  on  the 
hearth  all  about  it  will  feel  its  warmth.  One  day  he  said 
to  Bounio  Harris :  "  Won't  you  come  to  meeting  to- 
niglit,  if  Philip  and  I  call  for  you?  "  ,     ./•■    '  •' 

Bonnie  readily  consented.  Philip  spoke  that  evening, 
and  Walter  wondered  if  he  had  Bonnie  in  mind  as  he 
■was  speaking  ;  fur  Walter  had  told  Philip  about  him. 

Bonnie  was  more  tlian  usually  quiet  on  the  way  home, 
taking  no  part  in  the  conversation'.  That  an  imi)ression 
had  been  made  upon  him  was  evident  enough,  and  so  his 
friends  lefl  him  to  his  own  thoughts. 

The  next  Sunday  was  the  Sunday  before  Christmas. 
Walter  had  felt  more  than  usually  interested  in  the  Sun- 
day-school lesson.  After  the  close  of  the  school,  as  he 
was  walking  home  with  Bennie  Harris,  something 
prompted  him  to  say : 

"  Ben,  cannot  you  receive  Jesus  aa  your  Sainour  now?  " 

"  Oh,  Walter,"  replied  Ben,  his  face  lighting  up,  "  I 
have  accepted  him.  I  see  it  all  now,  Philip's  words 
came  home  to  me  that  ni^:at;  and  I  saw,  what  seems  so 
simple  now,  but  what  I  never  could  see  before,  that  it  is 
simply  taking  Jesus  at  his  word.    I  knew  I  was  sinful 


: 


>•«■ 


226 


WAI-TER    IIARLRY's  CX)NQUE8T. 


and  needed  Hulvation,  but  I  did  not  socin  able  to  come. 
I  have  coino  now,  and  I  want  to  unite  with  the  Lord's 
people  on  the  fii'.-*t  Suiuhiy  of  the  new  year." 

"  I  am  80  K'nd,"  Huid  Walter.  And  then  the  two  boyn 
walked  on  in  silence;  but  a  new  bond  of  Hym|mthy  had 
been  formed  between  them.  Henceforth  tluiy  were  indeed 
brothers  in  the  Lord. 

Christmas  was  a  brijjbt,  beautiful  day.  And  such  a 
happy  day  for  Walter!  His  little  gifts  had  given  a 
double  i)leasuro  that  was  keener  than  usual.  He  had 
thought  of  each  one  esjKJcinlly  iis  ho  had  wrought  for 
him  or  her ;  and  they  had  recognized  the  thoughtfubiess, 
and  it  had  added  much  to  the  intrinsic  value  of  the 
articles  bestowed.  Yes;  it  was  an  unusually  happy 
Christmas  for  Walter. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Morton,  and  Lina  and  Rob,  took  dinner 
at  Elmwood.  Then  in  the  evening  they  all  went  down 
to  8toneway  Miasion,  where  there  was  a  Christmas  tree, 
and  ft  supper  for  the  children.  Before  the  children  were 
dismissed,  the  superintendent  and  Mr.  Harley  and  Philip 
Ray  each  spoke  a  few  words,  reminding  them  of  the  great 
event  that  Christmas  celebratcH, 

Walter  never  forgot  that  night.  He  never  forgot  how 
his  friend  looked,  as,  leaning  over  the  desk,  he  spoke  of  the 
great  gift  God  the  Father  gave  to  the  world.    Long  afler- 


>•■ 


fK8T. 

n  ablo  to  come. 

with  tho  Lord's 

ar." 

len  the  two  boyH 

t'  Hyiii|mthy  hiul 

tlu!y  were  indeed 

y.  And  such  a 
:l8  liiid  given  a 
usual,  lie  hud 
lad  Avrought  for 
5  thoughtfubiesa, 
iic  vahio  of  tho 
nusually  happy 

Sob,  took  dinner 
all  went  down 
Christmns  tree, 
lie  children  were 
[irley  and  Philip 
hem  of  the  great 

lever  forgot  how 
:,  he  spoke  of  the 
Id.    Long  oiler- 


i 


1 

i 
1 

■1 

4 

I 
> 


f-jjgW"  "^W.  ./■■*"Wnn. 


^•^--;^Wi,^7^g^^Wysy?.gai|^ 


Walter  Harley's  ConqucBt. 


Page  227. 


W" 


i 


WAIiTER    HAKLEY  S  CONQUEST. 


227 


I 


ward  he  could  see  that  pale,  spiritual  countenance,  bright 
with  a  glory  not  of  earth.  Long  afterward  he  could  hear 
Philip's  gentle,  persuasive  voice,  as  he  urged  the  little 
ones  to  give  their  hearts  to  him  who  gave  himself  for 
them.  Such  a  hush  fell  on  the  assembly,  such  a  serious, 
earnest  look  stole  over  the  upturned  faces,  as  they  listened 
breathlessly  to  his  words;  for  Philip  had  already  won 
their  hearts.  And  when,  at  the  close,  he  said  :  "  How 
many  will  begin  the  journey  heavenward  now  ?  I  want 
to  meet  you  all  there.  Won't  you  raise  your  hands?" 
very  many  little  hands  were  raised  ;  and  Philip,  standing 
there  with  hand  uplifted,  seemed  like  one  drawing  them 
upward  and  heavenward. 

No  one  can  estimate  the  influence  of  that  scene  on 
those  little  folks.  The  spiritual  face,  the  earnest  words, 
the  upward  gesture,  each  had  a  meaning  which  after 
events,  in  sonie  at  least,  helped  to  make  an  abidi  ig 
memory. 

It  was  the  evening  of  the  day  after  Christmas.  Walter 
had  felt  listless  and  almost  depressed  through  the  day — 
something  uiujsual  for  the  gay,  happy-hearted  boy.  Per- 
hads  it  was  the  natural  reaction  after  the  hurry  and 
excitement  of  Christmas  times.  However  that  may  be, 
now,  as  evening  came  on,  Walter  wandered  restlessly 
from  room  to  room,  unable  to  settle  down  to  anything. 


-fm* 


l\ 


228 


WALTKB   HARI.EYS   CONQUEST. 


Reaching  the  library,  he  picked  up  a  Christmas  number 
of  a  favorite  magazine  and  tried  to  read,  but  it  waa  no 
use ;  and  he  wandered  off  again,  this  time  up  stairs  and 
along  the  hall,  to  a  window  that  looked  out  to  the  east- 
ward. 

It  was  a  dark,  cloudy  night,  and  a  south  wind  sighed 
among  the  leafless  branches  of  the  trees.  Something  in 
the  unrest  of  nature  seemed  tO  fascinate  Walter ;  for  he 
stood  a  long  while  gazing  oat  down  the  aveime,  with  its 
line  of  shadowy  trees  tossing  their  long  arms  restlessly 
tv.  and  fro  in  the  fitful  wind.  Walter  started  nervously, 
as  a  sudden  gust  made  the  old  elm  near  tho  house  creak 
and  groan.  The  spirit  of  unrest  apparent  without  had 
crept  into  his  heart,  and  somehow  a  dim  foreboding  of 
coming  U  mingled  with  it. 

"  What  an  old  woman  I  am  I "  he  exclaimed,  impa- 
tiently. "  I  will  go  to  my  room  thia  minute,  and  study. 
The  very  idea  of  being  so  nervous  when  we  are  all  safe 
and  well!" 

Just  at  that  moment  he  saw  a  light  gleaming  through 
the  trees.  Some  one  was  coming  up  the  avenue  with  a 
lantern. 

"  Who  can  be  coming  at  this  hour  ? "  he  said,  half 

aloud. 
The  person  passed  on  up  to  the  house,  and  as  the  door 


n  1 


-   >'in,"!>i."..-'^i"'irj'» 


ST. 

straas  number 

but  it  wa3  no 

up  stairs  and 

it  to  the  east- 

h  wind  sighed 
Something  in 
Valter ;  for  he 
venue,  with  its 
arms  restlessly 
•ted  nervously, 
10  house  creak 
lit  without  had 
foreboding  of 

claimed,  impa- 
ate,  and  study. 
?e  are  all  safe 

aming  through 
avenue  with  a 

'  he  said,  half 

,nd  as  the  door 


WALTER  habley's  cosquest.  229 

bell  rang,  a  faint  dread  stole  over  Walter.    He  reached 
the  stairway  just  as  the  door  was  opened.    He  knew  the 
voice  well.    It  was  that  of  Mr.  Williams,  a  man  who 
lived  near  Mrs.  Ray,  and  did  gardening  for  her.    His 
heart  seemed  to  stand  still,  yet  he  felt  no  surprise  as  the 
man  told  how  Maater  Philip  had  been  taken  suddenly 
with  bleeding  at  the  lungs.    "And  Mrs.  Ray,  she  wanted 
me  to  come  for  you,  sir,"  he  said,  speaking  to  Mr.  Harley. 
"  Master  George  has  gone  into  town  for  a  doctor." 
"  Father,  can  I  go  with  you  ?  "  cried  Walter. 
"  Yes,  my  son,"  was  the  reply.     And  in  a  few  moments 
they  were  following  Mr.  Williams  down  the  avenue. 

Soon  they  reached  Woodbine  Cottage,  Philip's  home. 
How  quiet  and  lonely  the  house  looked  I  How  strange 
it  seemed  to  cross  the  threshold  with  softened  footfall,  to 
epeakin  subdued  tones!  The  familiar  hall,  always  so 
bright  and  cheerful,  seemed  strangely  altered  to-night  to 
Walter— 80  dreary  and  uninviting  it  looked  with  its  dim- 
ness and  silence. 

Lottie  came  forward  to  meet  them.  The  doctor  had 
just  come,  and  waa  now  in  the  sick  room. 

"Philip,"  she  said,  "had  been  taken  very  suddenly, 
having  appeared  to  be  in  hb  usual  health  during  the 
day.  The  attack  had  been  as  severe  as  it  was  sudden, 
and  the  gravest  apprehension  filled  them  all." 


•  1 


nmm* 


230  WALTER    HAKLEY's   CONQUEST. 

Poor,  gay  little  Lottie :  she  was  completely  broken 
down.  Walter  could  not  bear  to  see  her  grief.  He  went 
into  the  parlor  and  sat  down.  How  still  and  lonely  the 
room  looked  where  they  had  spent  so  many  pleasant 
hours  of  late;  and  Philip,— Walter  could  almost  see  him 
therc,-the  life  and  light  of  all.  Then  he  shivered  as  the 
thought  came.  What  if  Philip  should  never  enter  this 
room  again?  But  he  would  not  think  of  it.  Philip  «m«< 
get  better — he  could  not  die. 

He  was  roused  from  his  reverie  by  the  doctor's  foot- 
steps. Dr.  Stanley  came  down,  looking  grave  and 
anxious,  but  said  little.  Mr.  Harley  accompanied  him 
back  to  town  to  get  medicine. 

Mrs.  Ray  came  down  stairs  for  a  few  moments.  She 
greeted  Walter  calmly,  ^ave  some  directions  to  Lottie, 
and  then  went  back  to  watch  by  her  son's  bedside. 

Shortly  after,  George  came  in  with  Mrs.  Rogers,  a  very 
dear  friend  of  Mrs.  Ray.  She  was  one  of  those  people 
who  know  just  what  to  do  in  a  house  of  trouble.  She  put 
her  arms  around  Lottie  and  kissed  her.  and  then  began 
to  talk  cheerfully  to  her. 

"  It  will  not  do  for  you  to  give  way  to  your  grief  so, 
dear,"  she  said.  "You  will  have  to  be  your  mother's 
right  hand  now.  There  will  be  many  things  you  must 
attend  to,  for  she  wiU  have  to  be  so  much  with  Philip. 


WALTER   HARLEY's  CONQUEST. 


231 


jtely  broken 
if.  He  went 
d  lonely  the 
iny  pleasant 
most  see  him 
ivered  as  the 
er  enter  thia 
Philip  must 

doctor's  foot- 
grave    and 
mpanied  him 


This  attack  of  your  brother's  may  not  prove  serious,  and 
I  hope  we  may  soon  see  him  among  ua  again."  And  aa 
she  thus  talked,  Lottie  grew  calm  again. 

Mr.  Harley  now  came  wifh  the  medicine,  and  as  there 
was  nothing  more  they  could  do,  Mr.  Harley  anu  Walter 
returned  home. 

It  was  long  before  Walter  could  sloep,  so  many 
thoughts  came  crowding  into  his  mind.  But  they  all 
resolved  themselves  into  this :  Philip  cannot  die,  he  mtut 
get  better. 


oments.  She 
ms  to  Lottie, 
)edside. 
Rogers,  a  very 
those  people 
ible.  She  put 
id  then  began 


your  grief  so, 
your  mother's 
ngs  you  must 
sh  with  Philip. 


CHAPTER  XXn. 


LAST  WORDS. 

DURING  the  days  that  followed,  Walter  was  much 
at  Woodbine  cottage ;  for  Philip  liked  to  have  his 
companionship,  and  often  nsked  for  him.  After  the  first 
day  Walter's  buoyant  spirits  began  to  return.  Any 
slight  improvement  in  Pl.ilip's  condition  seemed  to  Wal- 
ter a  sure  indication  of  his  ultimate  recovery,  and  he 
began  to  talk  of  what  they  would  do  when  Philip  was 
able  to  go  about  again.  Philip  said  but  little,  and 
Walter  sometimes  noticed  a  troubled  look  on  his  face. 

The  third  day  after  his  attack  Philip  looked  brighter 
and  more  cheerful  than  Walter  Lad  yet  seen  him.  His 
friend  became  buoyant  at  once,  and  was  as  hopeful  aa 
before  he  had  been  depressed. 

"  Oh,  you  look  ever  so  much  better,  Philip ;  you  will 
soon  be  around  again,"  he  said. 

Philip  smiled. 

"  I  cannot  say,  Walter ;  but  one  thing  I  can  say  now, 

that,  come  what  may,  all  is  well.    At  first  I  could  hardly 

be  reconciled  to  the  thought  of  dying.    Life  is  attractive 

to  the  young.    I  never  expected  to  have  a  long  }«fe ;  but  I 

282 


alter  was  much 
ked  to  have  his 
After  the  first 
)  return.  Any 
seemed  to  Wal- 
icovery,  and  he 
rhen  Philip  was 
but  little,  and 
I  on  his  face, 
looked  brighter 
seen  him.  His 
18  as  hopeful  as 

Philip ;  you  will 


g  I  can  say  now, 
it  I  could  hardly 
Life  is  attractive 
ei  long  7ife ;  but  I 


n^ ALTER   HARLEY's  CONQUEST. 


233 


had  hoped  for  a  few  years,  at  least,  of  usefulness ;  and 
then,  mother — I  felt  as  though  she  needed  me.  Walter, 
it  has  been  such  a  struggle  to  give  up  all ;  but  now  I  can 
say,  *  He  doeth  all  things  well.' " 

"  Oh,  Philip,  you  will  get  better ;  you  must  not  think 
of  dying  yet,"  said  Walter ;  "  we  cannot  spare  you.  I 
should  not  wonder  if  you  became  as  strong  as  I  am  yet. 
There  is  so  much  before  you ;  so  much  that  you  might  do. 
Oh,  surely  you  must  get  well  and  be  about  among  us 
again ! " 

"  I  wish  it  might  be  so,  Walter.  I  would  like  to  live, 
and  yet  I  have  thought  very  much  since  I  have  been 
lying  here  that  if  I  were  to  recover  only  to  be  laid  aside 
frequently,  and  unable  through  illness  to  do  ray  life-work, 
it  would  be  better,  far  better,  to  be  taken  away  now." 

"Some  have  recovered  from  attacks  like  yours,  and 
become  strong  men,"  said  Walter,  "  and  I  believe  you 
will  yet.  Every  one  says  ^ve  cannot  spare  you.  Ycj  do 
not  know  how  your  friends  feel.  They  cannot  be  recon- 
ciled to  your  leaving  us.  We  must  have  you  with  us 
again." 

"  My  friends  are  very  kind,"  said  Philip ;  "  so  many  , 
have  inquired  after  me.    I  only  wish  I  could  see  them ; 
but  the  doctor  will  not  allow  it.    But,  Walter,"  he  con- 
tinued, bhe  earnest  look  in  his  eyes  deepening,  "  I  want 


234 


WALTER    HARLEY's  CONQUEST. 


you  to  give  the  boys  this  message  from  me.  I  want  you 
to  tell  th  >ra  tiiat  the  Christian  life  is  the  best  life,  the 
happiest  life  to  live.  That  now,  as  I  look  back,  I  only 
wish  I  had  served  Christ  more  faithfully.  The  last  year 
in  my  life  has  been  the  happiest  I  ever  spent.  It  is  good 
to  serve  Christ."  Philip's  cheek  flushed  with  the  effort 
of  speaking. 

"  It  is  too  much  for  you  to  talk  any  more  now,"'  AValtei 
said.  "  You  must  rest,  or  the  doctor  will  not  allow  me  to 
be  with  you." 

Philip  sank  back  exhausted,  and  Walter  sat  watching 
him  with  a  strange  aching  in  his  young  heart,  lest  indeed 
those  might  prove  his  last  words. 

Saturday  found  Philip  worse  again.  There  were  com- 
plications, the  doctor  said,  which  rendered  his  case  very 
serious,  and  made  recovery  extremely  doubtful. 

"  You  have  heard  the  doctor's  opinion,"  said  Philip, 
as  Walter  took  his  place  by  the  bedside.  He  spoke  very 
low,  and  wistfully,  tenderly  tui-ned  his  large,  expressive 
eyes  upon  his  friend. 

"  Yes,"  said  Walter.  He  could  not  say  more,  for  a 
choking  sensation  came  into  his  throat,  and  he  looked 
very  hard  toward  a  distant  corner  of  the  room,  lest 
Philip  should  see  tears  in  his  eyes. 

There  was  silence  for  a  few  moments.    Philip  took 


li 


JEST. 

me.  I  want  you 
;he  beat  life,  the 
)ok  back,  I  only 
.  The  last  year 
pent.  It  is  good 
1  with  the  effort 

jre  now,"  Waltei 
1  not  allow  nie  to 

ter  sat  watching 
beart,  lest  indeed 

There  were  com- 
red  his  case  very 
Dubtful. 

on,"  said  Philip, 

He  spoke  very 

large,  expressive 

say  more,  for  a 
t,  and  he  looked 
f  the  room,  lest 

Its.    Philip  took 


V.'ALTER    IIAni.EY'S   CONQUEST. 


235 


Walter's  hand  in  his  own.  Then  he  said,  gently, 
"Walter,  you  know  we  used  to  read  how  in  time  of 
battle,  when  one  soldier  fell,  the  next  one  stepped  for- 
ward and  took  his  i)lace,  so  that  the  rank  should  remain 
unbroken." 

"Yes,"  said  Walter,  trying  hard  to  keep  back  the 
tears. 

"Walter,  you  must  take  my  place."  Slowly  the  words 
came,  and  distinctly,  and  the  solemnity  of  their  utterance 
helped  to  carry  them  to  Walter's  very  soul. 

"Oh,  Philip!  how  can  I  take  your  place?"  cried 
Walter,  with  passionate  earnestness.  "You  know  I 
could  never  hope  to  be  what  you  would  have  been ;  you 
are  so  clever,  you  would  be  one  of  our  leading  college 
professors." 

"You  may  not  occupy  just  that  position,  Walter;  but 
you  will  have  money  and  influence,  and  you  can  help 
some  one  else  who  has  neither,  to  fit  himself  to  do  the 
work  I  had  hoped  to  do — to  do  it  better  than  I  would, 
perhaps." 

Even  as  Philip  spoke,  Walter  seemed  to  see  a  little, 
longing  face,  and  wistful  blue  eyes,  and  could  hear  Bon- 
nie say,  "  I  woulu  dearly  love  to  be  a  professor  in  a 
college."  And  he  mentally  resolved  to  do  all  he  could 
to    realize    Beniiie's  wish.      Aloud   he  said:   "I  will, 


li 


WALTER    HARLEy's  CONQUEST. 

Philip,"  and  the  words  had  to  him  all  the  solemnity  of  a 
vow.  This  wna  the  lust  conversation  they  had.  Wheu 
Walter  came  again  Philip  was  too  ill  to  talk,  and  it  was 
evident  to  all  that  the  end  was  not  far  otL 


..^m 


!■'  ,»ii-iii.ii—- 


JEST. 


10  solemnity  of  a 
hey  had.  Wheu 
>  talk,  aod  it  was 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 


'COME  UP  IIianEB. 


IT  was  the  last  night  of  the  year,  and  "Walter  sat  up 
with  his  friend.  Mr.  Harley  had  at  fir?t  demurred ; 
for  Walter  had  already  been  up  two  nights  in  succession ; 
but  when  Walter  said,  sadly,  "  I  fear  it  will  be  my  bust 
opportunity,  father,  and  Piiilip  wants  me,"  his  father 
made  no  furtlier  objection.  Mr.  Harrison  shared  the 
watch  with  Walter  that  night. 

Many  thoughts  passed  through  Walter's  mind  as  he 
sat  by  Philip's  bedside.  In  the  hush  and  stillness  of  the 
room  the  tick  of  the  clock  on  the  mantel  sounded  loudly, 
as  it  counted  off  the  passing  moments.  Too  loudly, 
Walter  thought,  as  ho  realized  that  with  each  swiftly 
passing  moment  Philip's  life  was  too  surely  slipping 
away.  He  tried  to  look  back — only  one  short  week  since 
Philip  was  well  and  apparently  full  of  life.  One  week  I  it 
seemed  like  months.  Now  as  he  sat  by  his  dying  friend, 
how  little  all  earthly  pleasures  appeared,  how  trifling  the 
gayeties  that  he  thought  he  could  not  give  up  I  Now  ho 
felt  that  the  only  true  life  was  the  life  lived  for  eternity. 

"  The  best  things  are  the  most  enduring,"  he  repeated  to 

2S7 


■"^f«« 


238 


WAI.TKIl    HAIILKYS   C<)XCjnhvr. 


hini8Glf'.  "  Then  tliono  lliin^'H  cniiiiot  hu  ItoHt  wliich  wo 
cannot  carry  awuy  with  iw  hfyond  tlio  borders  of  tiuie.' 
And  iw  tlio  Now  Year  canjo  in,  Walter  conseorutcd  ium- 
Belf  anew  to  the  service  of  tlie  Saviour  who  h)ved  him, 
resolvini^,  by  God's  {jrace,  to  live  wholly  to  him. 

Toward  nioniin;,' Walter  noticed  a  chan<,'e  in  I'liilip; 
he  quickly  called  IMr.  Ilarrisfon.  As  Mr.  ILirriHon 
entered  the  room,  he  saw  at  once  that  the  end  wa.>t  near. 
"  It  Avill  bo  best  to  sumuiou  the  family,"  he  said,  "  and 
I  will  send  for  the  doctor." 

They  ail  ;,'atii('r(Ml  in  the  room.  Philip  scorned  scarcely 
conscions  of  their  presence.  He  had  l)idden  each  of  his 
dear  ones  good-bye  in  the  afternoon.  He  did  not  appear 
to  Buffer  much,  only  moved  restlessly.  Mrs.  Ilay  sat  by 
<;he  bedside,  holding  his  hand. 

Suddenly  his  face  lighted ;  ho  looked  up  with  a  bright 
smile;  then,  turning  to  his  mother,  and  chusping  her  hand 
more  tightly,  ho  whispered,  "  With  Christ — far  better." 
A  gentle  sigh,  and  the  glorified  spirit  had  taken  its  flight. 

But  ah!  the  darkened  home!  Oh,  the  anguish,  aa 
they  realized  that  their  loved  one  had  gone  fron)  them 
never  to  return ! 

Walter  quietly  lefl  the  sorrow-stricken  gi'oup,  on 
whoso  grief  lie  felt  he  could  not  intrude.  As  he  went 
down  th<i  staircast,  he  almost  stumbled  over  some  cue. 


.c>^^,V**,pti--i>'-»  ■ 


I)u  l)ext  wliich  wo 
I  borders  of  time.'' 
•  consccriitod  hiin- 
ir  who  loved  him, 
y  to  him. 
chiuigo  ill  Piiilip ; 
\a  Mr.  Iliirrirtoii 
the  end  wiw  iieivr. 
ly,"  ho  suid,  "  and 

lip  sccniod  scarcely 

bidileii  each  of  his 

Ho  did  not  appear 

Mra,  Ray  sat  by 

d  up  with  a  bri^dit 
clasping  her  hand 
ihrist — far  better." 
lad  taken  its  flight. 
1,  the  anguish,  aa 
id  gouc  from  them 

tricken  gi'oup,  on 
rude.  As  ho  went 
cd  over  some  one. 


WAr-TKB  uarley's  conqukst. 


239 


It  was  [Ktov  little  Elsie,  who  had  slipped  away  as  soon  as 
all  was  over  to  sob  out  hor  grief  alone.  Walter  felt  so 
Borry  lor  hor,  for  ho  know  slio  had  idolized  Philip. 

"  Don't  cry  bo,  Elsio ;  Philip  is  miuih  happier,'  ho  said. 
"  ril  try  to  1)0  a  brother  to  you."  Then  he  stooiHjd  and 
kissed  tho  little  brow  ;  and  from  henceforth  he  felt  as 
though  Elsie  wore  his  j)cculiar  charge. 

The  sky  was  brigiitoning  in  tiie  oiwt  as  Walter  turned 
his  steps  homeward.  Home  way  ho  could  not  fool  sad ; 
ho  could  only  think  of  his  friend's  happiness. 

When  he  reached  homo,  ho  went  up  stairs.  lie  found 
bis  mother  in  iier  littlo  sewing  room  reading. 

"  How  is  he  ?  "  wore  her  first  words. 

"  Ho  htiS  gone  homo,"  said  Walter.  Tlion  ho  went  to 
the  window,  and  his  mother,  knowing  ho  could  not  trast 
himself  to  say  more,  quietly  left  tho  room. 

Walter  spent  a  very  quiet  New  Year's.  That  evening 
he  was  alone  with  his  mother  in  the  library,  and  then  ho 
told  her  of  Philip's  last  hours,  and  opened  to  hor  his 
heart,  telling  hor  his  difficulties,  his  temptations,  and  his 
desire  and  purpose  to  live  wholly  for  Christ. 

He  is  altered  somewhat  since  a  year  ago  ;  on  his  face 
is  the  look  of  manhood,  and  through  it  shines  tho  liglit 
of  an  earnest,  solemn  purpose  ;  for  the  thoughts  and  acts 
of  the  post  year  have  left  their  impress  on  him.    At  tho 


M 


240 


WALTER    HARLEY's  CONQUEST. 


beginning  of  that  year  he  had  dimly  seen  that  to  do  one's 
daily  duties  bravely  and  cheerfully  was  to  be  a  true 
hero ;  now  he  realized  it  fully,  and  the  purpose  within 
him  was  stronger  to-day  than  ever  to  be  a  Christian 
hero. 

His  mother  entered  most  fully  into  all  his  feelings, 
giving  him  such  counsel  as  only  a  true  mother  caa. 

At  length  as  the  lateness  of  the  hour  warned  them 
that  they  must  bring  their  conversation  to  a  close, 
Walter  said : 

"  Mother,  what  motto  will  you  give  me  for  this  New 
Year?"  And  his  mother  opening  the  large  family 
Bible,  pointed  to  these  words : 

"  Wherefore,  seeing  we  also  are  compassed  about  with 
80  gi-eat  a  cloud  of  witnesses,  let  us  lay  aside  every  weight, 
and  the  sin  which  doth  so  easily  beset  us,  and  let  us  run 
with  patience  the  race  that  is  set  before  us,  looking  unto 
Jesus  the  author  and  finisher  of  our  faith." 


THE  END. 


1 1 

.i  i 

( 


JUE8T. 

3n  that  to  do  one's 
was  to  be  a  true 
he  purpose  within 
X)  be  a  Christian 

0  all  his  feelings, 
mother  can. 

lOur  warned  them 
i&tion  to  a  close, 

1  me  for  this  New 
the  large  family 

ipassed  about  with 
aside  every  weight, 
us,  and  let  us  run 
re  us,  looking  unto 
,ith." 


i 


I 


"-^■■■.;v*;«ji»i<i*^**«i 


>fg^^^^m;^u^3.^i^s;^^^^--^i'V^~^r'r^-^ 


rrrrx^'S''''i.'«"i*S»^.nM%^ir3^*»^*'-^-s^**^ 


\:,^4'  n  «".;=,- i^'j7:T7;^'/5S*'>''^-«;,ii.3i,^i,  ^jfJ^'K!^^:^;^^' -'■»-*^--^''  ^^?X!iAj.,TT,''-("5*?  -^ — 3x-<^ 


